Forbidden Fruit
by Lady Belegwen Lightningblade
Summary: The Labyrinth was only the beginning. Sarah's next wish has consequences that lead her into a world of myth and fairy tale. It will take her own wits and courage, as well as Jareth's help to get her out again.
1. Summer Turned Winter

Notes: It has been some years since I wrote or posted any fan-fiction. When I have written, my attention has been primarily on original works, but here I am now, writing a story that first occurred to me over ten years ago. Even now, I would not have written it for my own pleasure, but with another reader in mind.

It is a gift to you, dear friend, because you make me desire to do admirable things. My greatest gift is with words, and by good fortune, I know your love of words. Thus, though I can slay no monsters for you, I can offer this. I dedicate it to you and hope that it brings you delight.

* * *

_Love, do you remember_

_My name? I was lost_

_In summer turned winter,_

_Made bitter by frost._

_And when June comes December,_

_The heart pays the cost._

–Guy Gavriel Kay, "Rachel's Song," _The Summer Tree_

* * *

It would be foolish to think that he simply vanished from my life. His attention was not that short, and as Hoggle had said, I had his attention.

I sensed it immediately, never doubting that he was still watching me, waiting for . . . something. It was worse at night, when the light took on the same silver quality that hung forever about him. He was a creature of moonlight and dreams, and that was as seductive as it was terrifying. In daylight, it was better, when the mundane details of school and friends could conceal the darker shadows of the world.

Even on the brightest days, however, I never doubted that he was there.

Did this knowledge frighten me? I truly cannot say. It should have. What girl would not be afraid that some strange inhuman being was watching her every movement? We are taught, after all, to be afraid of such things: of stalkers in the night, the men who will follow us into alleys and look in our bedroom windows. Every girl is told almost as soon as she can walk that she is never safe.

So it was that I, the same girl who had told him that he had no power over me, learned caution.

I did not know what he was waiting for, but I did know one thing.

I knew that I must never, ever say the words "I wish."

* * *

Of course, it isn't really as easy as that. You don't change your vocabulary or the way your mind works overnight, and it is nearly impossible to stop wishing things, especially when you are sixteen.

There were a few times that I messed up, and when I did, it was catastrophic.

The first time was a couple months after the original incident in the middle of an astonishingly hot summer day. The adults of the household were out on some sort of shopping expedition, and they had taken Toby with them. Somehow, even with the air conditioning on full blast, the house felt oppressively warm and stuffy. The air was so warm and humid that it smelled like a swamp, though only a mundane one, not anything as dreadful as I had encountered in the Labyrinth.

Desperate to escape the miserable heat, I packed a picnic lunch and fled the house for a shady corner of the park, somehow the breeze outside seemed cooler than the air conditioning, and the sound of water flowing nearby helped as well. I had brought _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ with me, and I sat down leaning against a tree to read and eat my lunch.

It was a poor choice of book really. I should have thought or at least been cautious, but I was still young then, and while I knew better, I did not yet have the awareness or self-control that I would come to learn.

Fanning myself with the pages of my book, I whined, "I wish it would snow."

I knew at once that it was mistake. The words were barely out of my mouth when I regretted it. "No, I mean-"

One of the greatest lessons I had learned in the Labyrinth was that you can never undo what you have done, only take responsibility for your actions and try to fix them.

The air grew chill almost immediately. Before, the sky had been that achingly bright azure that you only see in summer, but it faded now to the fainter blue of spring and winter, before the dull clouds covered it over entirely. Within moments, fat flakes were falling from the sky. Children playing in the park stopped to stare at the sky in amazement. I myself froze, terrified of what I had just done.

I looked around, trying to spot him. Surely, he was close by and would reveal himself now. There would be a challenge of some kind, and eventually I would meet its requirements and return the world to summer. This was, of course, how this sort of thing worked. I understood the rules of stories and adventures: you help whoever asks it of you, you don't get distracted by temptations, and you never try to cheat the rules. All the problems I had made for myself had come when I tried to break the rules. I was determined to do better this time. There would be no distractions, no cheating. I would have things set right before my worried father and stepmother arrived home with Toby.

The only problem was that Jareth was no where to be seen.

This left me with a dilemma. For the moment, the snow was melting as soon as it touched the ground, but when enough of it had fallen, it would begin to stick. And I knew him well enough to guess that the snow wouldn't stop falling until some sort of condition had been met. Until I found him, I had no way of knowing what that condition would be.

What would I do in a story? I asked myself.

The answer was obvious. I would close my eyes. I would listen, and I would feel, and I would find the way.

I closed my eyes, which somehow made the chill of the wind seem even colder. And where was that freezing wind coming from? He was the source of this snow, so the wind must be coming from wherever he was.

I turned to face into the cold blast of air and began to walk forward, keeping my eyes closed tightly. I don't know how long or how far I walked like that, my hands out in front of me, though I never ran into a tree or other obstacle. The ground beneath my feet was eerily flat, even though I knew that the park was filled with tiny hills and rabbit holes. As I walked, the wind grew harsher and colder, until at last my hands did touch something in front of me.

It gave slightly and felt like it was covered in fabric. My eyes snapped open in surprise.

I stood in the midst of a vast snow-covered plain. There was nothing in sight, but snow and sky and the two of us, me in my jeans and blouse, him in silver-gray velvet, embroidered over with ice-blue silk in a feathered pattern like frost on a window sill.

"Sarah," he said, "it's been too long."

Oddly, I could almost agree with him. In the weeks since my adventure, life had seemed dull and quiet, even though I had known that I could not afford to risk the danger that him returning to my life might bring to others. Now here he was before me once more. "Jareth," I said. There was a breathless quality to my voice, that I wasn't sure I liked.

A hint of a smile touched his strange features.

I realized that my hands still rested on his chest and I immediately tucked them into my pockets. "Tell me . . . tell me what I have to do to make the snow stop."

"You make demands so constantly," Jareth mused. "'Take my brother.' 'Bring my brother back.' 'Make it snow.' 'Make the snow stop.' Are you always so decisive?"

I glared at him. "I know that I need to stop saying things I don't mean, but this snow could cause problems! The plants will die, and nobody's ready for snow in June!"

Jareth crossed his arms and looked down at me. His amusement was clear. "Perhaps you should have thought of that before you wished it."

This was growing frustrating. I needed him to tell me what I had to do. I stomped my foot. "I know that! Please, I want to stop the snow. Tell me what to do."

"Do you truly wish to end this winter you have wrought?" Abruptly, his voice seemed serious.

"Yes!" I announced.

He took my shoulders and turned me around to face the direction from which I had come. There was a vast, snow-covered woodland behind me. "Somewhere in that forest is the very spirit of winter itself. It must be defeated to end the winter."

"Defeated?" I asked in shock. "You mean, in combat?"

Jareth nodded wordlessly.

This was not good. I could be clever if I needed to be, but I wasn't strong. I had friends that could be, but I had no idea where to look for them. No where in all of this snow had I seen Hoggle or Ludo or Didymus, any of whom might have provided me the help I needed. At last, I said, "Alright." I began to make my way towards the wood. Maybe I could find help somewhere in the forest.

Suddenly, Jareth was standing in front of me again. "Well?"

"Well, what?" I asked impatiently.

He appeared almost hurt. "Aren't you going to ask for help?"

"From you?" I asked skeptically. The only help he had ever offered me had been poor bargains that would lose me more than they gained.

"Your scorn wounds me, Sarah."

Still, one of the rules was that you never refuse help, especially not help freely offered. Jareth would be a dangerous and uneasy traveling companion, but I had once thought the same of Hoggle, and he had ultimately become one of my dearest friends. I drew in a deep breath and spoke the words all in one breath. "Jareth, would you please help me find and defeat the spirit of winter in the forest?"

He made a deep and courtly bow. "Of course. Nothing would make me happier."

* * *

I noticed as soon as we began approaching the forest that we were walking downhill. Given that I remembered how flat the way I came had been, this puzzled me somewhat. On the other hand, I was beginning to expect the normal rules of physics to go on vacation whenever Jareth was in the area. "Are we in the Labyrinth?" I asked him at last.

Jareth laughed at the absurdity of this question. "Do we appear to be?"

"No," I admitted, my pride a little hurt by his mockery, "But there were lots of places in the Labyrinth that didn't look like the Labyrinth."

He took pity on my ignorance. "That is why I did not ask you if it looked like the Labyrinth. Surely, you can feel the difference."

I considered this and realized that I could. It was nothing I could really put words to, only that it did not feel the same. There was a way that being in the Labyrinth felt, and I did not feel that now. I did feel something, however. This was not the same sort of place as my home, even my home when it was filled with goblins. There was a difference, and that was all the name I could put to it. "Then, where are we?"

"The North Wood," Jareth replied shortly.

Even as he said it, we reached the edge of the Wood. Beneath the trees it was dark, though the ground was still covered in snow, even beneath the thick branches. I remembered my first sight of the Labyrinth and how intimidated I had felt then. This was much the same, though at least there had been light and color in the Labyrinth. Within the Wood, there seemed to be only darkness.

"Are you afraid, Sarah?" The mocking quality was back in his voice, and I did not like it.

Lying was supposed to be against the rules. That did not mean that I never did it, but it seemed foolish to do so now. A part of me was certain that he would know if I lied. "Yes," I said grudgingly, "but it's not like I have any other choice."

Jareth did not answer me, only gestured me forward into the forest. Something in his movement seemed to imply slightly more respect, so I took one step forward and then another and then I was standing in the shadow of the vast, old trees.

The air seemed even more chill, and the trees did not seem to block the wind at all. My sneakers were already soaked with melting snow, and I was not dressed for the weather. I felt cold, as I entered the forest, so cold that I had almost forgotten what warmth was like. My heart seemed to sink to my feet. I looked at Jareth doubtfully. "How can I even do this?"

His answer was straightforward and horrible. "You can't."

I stared at him horror. "What do you mean, I can't?"

Jareth's expression was patronizing. "You are a slip of girl. I doubt you've ever held a weapon, much less wielded one. Of course, you cannot do this yourself. That is why you needed help."

My eyes widened. This was more help than I had expected from him. "You'll fight him for me?"

"I did agree to help you, did I not?" As if it were a foregone conclusion.

"I guess."

We resumed walking into the depths of the woods. Jareth seemed to know exactly which way to go, so I followed him. Without him, I knew that I would be lost almost immediately in the dark Wood around us. I clasped my arms so that I could rub my upper arms as we walked. I wondered how long I could go on before I got hypothermia. To distract myself, I asked, "Why are you helping me?"

Jareth looked over his shoulder, a crease appearing in his forehead. "Because you asked me to. When have I ever denied you?"

"When you wouldn't give me Toby back." My voice sounded like an accusation. The sound of our voices echoed in the forest. It felt like we were the only living beings in the entire Wood. It was strange, because the Labyrinth had been so full of life. Now there was silence and isolation. Except, of course, for Jareth.

"Now, Sarah," and his tone was devastatingly patient. "When you tell me one thing and then the reverse, how am I supposed to know what you really want unless I put you to the test? And was not that test, that adventure, what your heart really desired?" Suddenly, the crystal had returned to his hands. "You still have not accepted this from me." It danced over his fingers and seemed to reflect light that wasn't there. "Of course, you never really wanted him gone, and of course you never really wanted this snow. This-" He held the crystal aloft, "is what you really desire."

"I don't," I protested. "I'm not accepting that from you, Jareth."

"Not today, perhaps," he agreed coolly. "But one day, Sarah. I know what is in your heart, and so I will offer it to you, until you accept it." The crystal vanished into one of his sleeves and did not emerge. He looked over at me then and seemed to observe something for the first time. "You are cold."

"Yes," I snapped impatiently. "That's what happens to humans when we stand too long in the snow without a coat."

This appeared to be news to him. "I am sorry. I should have known."

I stared at him, puzzled that something so simple could perplex him.

Jareth had stopped walking. "You need a coat?"

I nodded a little ruefully. I had goosebumps, and I was shivering.

He observed me thoughtfully. "I suppose it must be green." He stepped over to one of the trees, finding a small hollow in its trunk. "Ah, here we are." He reached within and seemed to take old of something, because he pulled. Yards of fabric seemed to emerge from the tree, filling his arms. He spun shaking it out, and it swirled through the air between us, and then he had wrapped it around my shoulders.

It was green, as he had said, the warm golden-green hue of summer grass. I had no idea what sort of material it was made from. It was as heavy as wool, but softer than that with something of the smooth texture of satin. It was very warm. I clutched it around me. It was actually a cloak, rather than a coat, but I wasn't inclined to complain at that moment. "Um, thank you."

Jareth bowed again. "You are welcome."

As he rose, I noticed that the embroidery of his garment was no longer pale blue, but the same shade of green as the cloak he had just provided. Additionally, the velvet was less silver now and more of a gold-tinged white. I remembered how often his clothing had changed in the Labyrinth and wondered if it had any significance.

He said no more, but continued leading me deeper into the North Wood.

After some time walking through the icy forest, another question occurred to me. "How will we find the spirit?"

Jareth placed his hand on one of the trees. "It's still a long way." He pointed at the branches. "This is no tree of winter. It died in autumn and will be reborn in the spring. When we are closer, the trees will be armed against the winter with needles of green." He added, "The Wood will be colder too and darker."

The Wood already seemed very cold and dark to me, but I didn't say so.

We continued on, and the forest seemed endless. Still, it did seem as if the cold and dark were growing more intense. I walked closer to him then, not out of any desire to be nearer to him, but because I did not want to lose sight of him in the dim light. I suspected that if I got lost, then I would never find my way out of the Wood again. I would lie down under a tree in the darkness and never wake up.

"Sarah!"

I looked over at him and realized that it was not the first time he had said my name. Jareth was standing quite close, and he seemed near the end of his patience. "Yes?" I barely heard myself. I sounded sort of vague and barely there.

"You are too cold," he observed. "Mortals are so frail."

His hands on my shoulders pushed me downward so that I sat on a fallen tree.

"Wait," he instructed, as he began gathering small pieces of fallen wood in a pile before me. He lit them with a snap of his fingers.

Abruptly, the air around me was as warm as a summer's day. I was able to observe that the fire had not lit slowly as a real fire would have. One instant it had been a bare handful of twigs on the snowy ground, the next it had been a roaring fire, piled high with logs that seemed to have been burning for some time. "How-?" I began.

"There are now hows in magic," Jareth replied. "I suspect your mortal frailty also requires food and drink and rest?"

"Um, yes," I said, holding my hands out to the blaze. "Only . . . I don't want to be rude, but I'm not sure if I should eat food that you give me."

Jareth chuckled. "Is this because of the peach or because of fairy stories you have read?"

"Both."

"Very well, I apologize for the peach." He said it so graciously that it sounded as he were making a very grand gesture for my benefit. "As for the other, you have already eaten a bite of the peach, so more fairy food is unlikely to harm you."

I wasn't entire certain of this logic, so I looked at him closely. "If I eat what you give me, will I still be able to go home?"

He nodded slightly.

"And it won't turn me into a fairy or a goblin or something?"

He started to nod, then to shake his head, then finally spoke. "It will not turn you into a fairy or goblin."

I was sure that there were more questions I should ask, but I could not think what they might be, so finally I gave in. "Alright, I'll eat something."

"So generous of you to agree to accept a gift." Jareth held out his hand to me, and in it was what appeared to be a fresh-baked roll, still steaming in the chilly air.

I took it nervously, but it smelled so good that I could not resist biting into it. It was very warm after so long in the cold. "Thank you."

He held out his other hand, now holding a silver cup.

I took it and sipped from it, a little puzzled. It contained nothing more ominous that warm milk, sweetened with honey. It was very pleasant, and as soon as I had finished it, I was yawning.

"I will guard your rest," Jareth assured me.

I wasn't certain that I trusted him to do so, but it didn't matter, because I fell asleep anyway, before I could say a word of protest.

* * *

I felt like I lay upon a feather mattress, covered by silken sheets. Then I opened my eyes and found that I was lying on a layer of snow with the green cloak wrapped around me. I sat up startled, aware that I was no longer feeling quite so comfortable.

Jareth was standing nearby, his eyes on me. "Are you awake now, Sarah?"

"Yes." I pulled myself to my feet. "We should keep going."

"First, you should eat." He nodded at a small plate beside the fire, containing what appeared to be fried eggs and another freshly baked roll. There was another cup of milk as well, though it was not steaming.

I ate the meal hurriedly, though not so quickly that I did not notice how delicious it was. "Thank you for breakfast."

Manners were important. That too was part of the rules.

We resumed our journey.

* * *

After what seemed several hours, we finally began to see evergreen trees: firs, pines, and cedars, even several holly trees with bright red berries. At first, they were scattered among the leafless monoliths of oak and birch trees, but soon they came to predominate, and at last, they were the only trees in sight.

The forest grew darker, for the still green needles blocked the light even more than had the leafless limbs. The cold continued too increase, until even the cloak Jareth had given me was not enough to stop my trembling.

"We are very close now," he told me. "Do you even know what to expect?"

"No," I confessed, a little anxiously. Jareth's presence was not very comforting. Even when he was being courteous, there was nothing soft or friendly about him. I missed Hoggle's sharp-tongued humor and Ludo's quiet loyalty and Didymus' unending courage. In contrast, Jareth seemed very distant. He still made me feel uneasy.

I should not have been surprised that he sang, for music always seemed to move around him, as naturally as he breathed.

_Sing we of mystery, now as long ago,_

_Bright red holy berries, blood upon the snow._

_The Oak King shall rise, the waxing year to bring,_

_Therefore bid we farewell to the Holly King._

_In the deep Midwinter, all seems in a trance._

_Comes the golden Oak King in his age old dance._

_Comes he to slay, yet honor he does bring,_

_To his fallen brother the darksome Holly King._

_Come the bright Midsummer, the year's wheel turned around,_

_Then shall be the Oak King's blood upon the ground._

_Ever it comes, once more the year's waning,_

_Then shall be victorious, the darksome Holly King._

_Sing we of a mystery, now as long ago,_

_Bright red holly berries, blood upon the snow._

_The Oak King shall rise, the waxing year to bring,_

_Therefore bid we farewell to the Holly King_.

Jareth went silent.

I wasn't entirely certain what he meant. "So, the spirit of winter is the Holly King?" I guessed at last.

"Yes, given strength and brought forth in the wrong time and place." Jareth looked at me with amusement. "All at the whim of a beautiful young girl, who did not even want what she asked for."

My face flamed at this. He was right, of course. I had been an idiot, but I was also sixteen and did not like to be reminded of my own folly. "And you're going to fight him for me?"

He sighed. His face was serious. "That is what I have agreed to do. I shall be your Oak King, if you but name me as your champion."

This was more familiar ground. Ladies in stories always had champions. Still, I had always imagined that if I were to have one it would be Sir Didymus or a handsome young man I had fallen hopelessly in love with. At the moment, however, I did not seem to have much choice in the matter. "Alright." I frowned, remembering stories I had read of knights. Generally, a lady was supposed to give the knight some sort of token, usually a piece of her clothes.

I took careful inventory of my clothes and realized that short of tearing something, the best I could manage was one of my shoelaces, which had its own drawbacks. Still, you had to do things the right way, so I sat down and unwound the shoelace. I held it out to him. "Jareth, I entreat you to act as my champion against the Holly King."

He took the shoelace and tied it carefully around his arm. It should have looked out of place there amidst his strange finery, but somehow it did not. I noticed that the colors of his clothing had changed further. The white gold had darkened to a more brilliant hue, like sunlight, and the green embroidery had spread to cover more of the garment in a pattern of oak leaves. "I shall act in your name in this, Sarah." He knelt briefly, putting him just below eye level with me. "I shall need you to find me a weapon. A stave would be best." He pointed at a pile of brush. "I'm sure there's something suitable in there."

It didn't seem likely. All I could see there was damp black wood, covered by the snow, but I went to pick through it anyway, mostly so I could say that I had tried.

To my surprise, I found a single long pole of golden wood near the bottom of the pile. It was perfectly straight and perhaps six feet in length. I turned back to Jareth in puzzlement. "Will this work?"

"It will serve."

I brought it over to him, and Jareth rose to his feet as he took it. "We will find him in the next clearing, Sarah. You must watch, no matter what happens, and do not be afraid."

"I won't," I said with more certainty than I felt.

I had the strange feeling that something unusual was going to happen in that clearing, though I did not know what.

* * *

The clearing was filled with sunlight. After so long in the dim light of the room, it hurt my eyes. I realized that it was so bright because the sunlight reflected off the snow in such a way that it magnified the brilliance many times over. In the center of this, stood a strange man.

His skin was very pale, as was his hair, which had barely any color at all. His eyes were blue, like a shadow on the ice. All of his features were sharp, as if they had been cut from ice. For all that his form was as human as my own, I would never have mistaken him for a mortal.

His clothing was cut of much the same pattern as Jareth's, though it was white embroidered with dark red tear-drop shapes. More than anything, the pattern resembled drops of blood. I thought of the song that Jareth had sung me and shuddered. I realized that actual harm would be done in this battle, not the petty violence I had seen in the battle in the Labyrinth. As if to emphasize this fact, the man bore no mere staff, but a glittering silver blade.

Jareth stepped into the clearing. "Holly King!"

The other man met his gaze. "You trespass here, Jareth. This is not your story."

"I have been invited into it," Jareth replied, touching the shoelace on his arm. "On this day, in this story, I am the Oak King."

The Holly King's eyes widened. "What fool drew you into this?" His eyes strayed to me. "You?"

I wasn't entirely certain what to say.

"As her champion, I cannot permit you to call Lady Sarah a fool." There was a hint of smugness in his tone, and I began to suspect that he had other motivations in this than helping me.

"Then let us end these words and replace them with actions." The Holly King readied his blade. "Come."

Jareth moved forward with surprising speed, swinging his staff in a wide arc.

The two of them became of blur of movement, yet I could still see every blow. Each rapid, brutal movement followed the last in a progression violence that was shocking to me. Jareth's face had gone implacable and grim. There was no pause in the battle, and everything happened so quickly that I felt I could not even blink.

As they fought, it seemed the Jareth's strength was growing, even as the Holly King was weakening. With increasing frequency, Jareth's blows began to his their target with bruising force, and often the Holly King was forced to retreat. At last, Jareth forced the Holly King back to the edge of the clearing and with a final movement struck the other man down and planted the staff firmly in his body.

What happened next shocked and frightened me. The staff began to sprout, and oak leaves fountained outward from its ever widening trunk. The staff grew roots as well which carved their way through the Holly King's fallen body. Blood spattered over the nearby snow. An eerie silence prevailed. The Holly King did not scream, only suffered and died as an oak tree grew from his body.

Remembering my promise to Jareth, I watched, my eyes glued to the horror unfolding before me.

In moments, it was over. The snow was gone, the ground sprouted with brilliant grass, sprinkled with crimson flowers. The trees around us were covered in green, not with the needles of an evergreen, but with the soft leaves of summer. Jareth stood before the enormous oak tree that had slain the Holly King, gasping for breath. It was the first time I had ever seen him in a moment of weakness, a fact that shook me almost as much as the horror I had just witnessed.

He turned to face me. "Are you happy now, Sarah? Was that what you wanted?"

I did not answer, too stunned to respond.

"Go home," he said coldly. "This is done."

I blinked. "I don't know the way."

Jareth sighed, but his patience seemed to return. "Close your eyes."

I closed them.

"Turn around."

I turned.

"Take three steps forward, then open your eyes." His voice sounded odd. "Goodbye, Sarah."

I took three steps forward and then opened my eyes.

When I opened them, I stood in the park again. The snow was no longer falling, though the ground was still damp where a few fallen flakes were melting. In another moment, they too were gone and there was no sign of the strange things that had happened moments before.

Of course, that was not the end of it.


	2. No Other Way

_When the dark wood fell before me_

_And all the paths were overgrown_

_When the priest of pride say there is no other way,_

_I tilled the sorrows of stone_

_I did not believe because I could not see_

_Though you came to me in the night_

_When the dawn seemed forever lost_

_You showed me your love in the light of the stars_

-Loreena McKennit, "Dante's Prayer"

* * *

After the incident in the North Wood, I expected to see Jareth again soon. I wasn't entirely certain why, but nothing had really felt completed, even though the snow had melted away. Perhaps, it was only that the sight of the Holly King had disturbed me deeply. The image lingered in my dreams for days and haunted even my waking hours.

Still, I tried to avoid thinking about it and about Jareth. He had been so cold when I left him, even more strange and distant than usual. He had seemed almost angry with me, and I did not know why. I knew instinctively that more things had played out in that glen than I understood. A part of me was curious, but the greater part of me—I believed the wiser part of me—did not want to know more.

So I buried myself in the mundane. I volunteered to watch Toby, which was a surprisingly fulfilling way to spend my time, since he was just starting to learn a few words, including my name, even though it came out sounding like, "'ara." I cleaned my room. I read the dull dry books that had been assigned as my summer reading, even though it was months before school would resume. My father and step-mother were certainly happy, but after a few days they seemed to grow a little worried by this sudden change, and my father even joked that he worried that I had been replaced by an alien who only looked like his daughter.

After that, I tried to act more like myself, but it was difficult, because my lingering doubts were a constant presence in my mind.

* * *

June wore on, and my dreams grew worse.

The dream changed, as well. Now it was not the Holly King I saw dying so bloodily, but Jareth himself. For all that I had so often set my will against his, the sight of him in such agony was disturbing. He might be an antagonist, but he was my antagonist.

It became harder to sleep, and I started staying up much of the night to avoid the dreams. I grew pale and quiet. Then my father became genuinely worried and insisted on taking me to the doctor. After a full hour of being poked and prodded, the doctor announced that I was fine, but he would recommend a multi-vitamin and sunshine.

The multi-vitamin was no problem, but the sunshine became something of an inconvenience. Every morning, my step-mother would shoo me out of the house to sit in a lawn chair in the sunniest part of the lawn. I went through several books before this began to get very old. My skin browned in the warm light of summer, and the sun added streaks of gold to my hair.

I still wasn't sleeping much, but my father and step-mother convinced themselves that I was improving. The truth was I wasn't. By the next time I saw Jareth, I hadn't slept for a week.

* * *

The afternoon of June 20th, I was stretched out in the backyard reading. I was so tired that I had to read each sentence several times to make any sense of it, but I was too frightened to let myself fall asleep, even though my eyes were drifting closed every few moments even in the bright sunlight.

I opened my eyes again, after another too long blink. Suddenly, he was standing there in front of me.

Jareth didn't look any better than I felt. Somehow, in the weeks since I had seen him last, he had changed dramatically. He looked drawn and thin, as if his substance had been draining away. His skin had the same golden cast that mine had developed. His clothing was dull green without any of his usual flare. Nothing in his clothing sparkled or flowed or clung tightly to his body. The material was fine, but it looked limp and rumpled. Jareth, who always before had been the most beautiful and elegant of men, now looked bedraggled and ill.

"Jareth?" I asked sleepily. "What are you doing here?"

Jareth stood up a little taller and tried to straighten his clothing. "I need your help tomorrow." His voice sounded a little grudging.

I blinked at him in puzzlement. "You what?"

"Are you a fool or merely hard of hearing?" He seemed a little impatient. "I said that I need your help tomorrow."

"Why?"

Jareth actually sighed and touched the shoelace that was still tied to his arm. "I am still your champion and the Oak King, Sarah. There are obligations inherent in that, obligations I doubt you understand."

The insulting tone in his voice reminded me of his anger before he had directed me to go home. "What don't I understand?"

His mouth hardened. "You don't need to understand, Sarah. You only need to meet me in the park tomorrow morning at sunrise."

This was growing more suspicious by the moment. Whatever Jareth was refusing to tell me was clearly important. I had a distinct feeling that I wasn't going to like what came next. I rose to my feet so I could look at him more evenly, though he still towered above me. I drew in a deep breath and then took on a challenging tone. "I am not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on."

Jareth glared at me, and I held his gaze. His stare was weaker than usual, and finally he nodded slightly. "The Holly King should not have been here when he was. I brought him here for you. Normally, he is beaten back on the longest night of winter, and instead we did it sixteen days ago. Then-" Jareth's voice grew cold. "-he returns on the longest day of summer to do to the Oak King as the Oak King did to him." He paused as if to regain his breath. "Tomorrow is the longest day of summer."

I stared at him in shock, trying to make sense of what he had just said. I heard the words, but my mind refused to absorb them. "You . . . ." I shook my head. "He's . . . going to kill you?"

Jareth opened his mouth briefly, then closed it. Finally, he opened it again. "Yes."

"But, you're the Goblin King," I protested. "You're . . . you don't die."

Jareth laughed bitterly. "Oh, Sarah, you are so naïve. Of course, I can die, and I will. Tomorrow. As your champion." He took a step closer to me. "So be a dear and show up so you can watch."

I did not want to do it. And I didn't want him to die, especially not in so horrible a manner. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Yes," he replied grimly. "I can win and live, and then the summer doesn't end. The plants die from the heat and sun, and the world is thrown out of balance. Magic always has consequences, Sarah."

I didn't know what to say. It sounded like there were no good answer. Either Jareth would die horribly, or the world itself would suffer. I remembered watching the Holly King die and shuddered. The thought of seeing Jareth meet the same fate was painful, even though we had been enemies before. The fact was that I in my ignorance and carelessness had gotten him into this situation.

"Will you do it?" Jareth asked.

I looked up at him, feeling tears forming in my sleepless eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Sarah-" The frustration in his tone was palpable.

"I'll go," I said quickly. "I'm just sorry."

Jareth nodded. "Such easy words," he said coolly. "Good night, Sarah. I will see you in the morning."

* * *

After that, it was difficult to go back to my book, so eventually I set the book aside and rose. I wasn't entirely certain where to go or what to do with myself. I ended up walking aimlessly down the street until I came to the park. Everything seemed brilliantly green and alive. It was hard to think of what would happen on the following day.

I watched absently as children played and adults walked dogs down the sidewalk. Here was the place where I had said those fatal words for the second time. The first time, I had managed to set things right. But this was something else entirely. There was nothing I could do. I was going to have to watch Jareth suffer and die.

It would be true to say that my feeling about Jareth were conflicted. He had been the one to twist my wishes ruthlessly against my will on two separate occasions now, and I had set myself and my will against him in the Labyrinth. He had tormented me throughout my journey and tried to keep my brother from me.

At the same time, he had fought the Holly King for me, and I could not help remembering the words of the story I had told to Toby: "But what no one knew was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl and he had given her certain powers." I did not know how much of that was true, but it was clear that Jareth was fascinated by me. So fascinated, that he had dropped us into the Bog of Eternal Stench when I kissed Hoggle, an action that almost implied jealousy. His interest did not seem to have vanished since then.

The truth was that Jareth was inscrutable. What was he to me: enemy, companion, rival, or suitor? I simply did not know. It no longer seemed likely that I would get the chance to find out.

* * *

I slept that night. Knowing the truth that awaited me in the morning, nightmares did not seem so terrifying, and I was utterly exhausted. I set my alarm clock for five in the morning, aware of the irony of getting up that early in the middle of summer. Then I collapsed into my bed.

For the first time in many days, I allowed my eyes to close, and I was asleep instantly.

The dream returned, and again I watched in horror as the tree tore at and consumed Jareth's body, until he was only a broken wreck of blood, bone, and ripped clothing.

I woke to the realization that I could not face it in reality. It had been my unwise words that had created the situation, and it had been my request for help that had brought him to this.

So I would have to be the one to save him.

With this resolve, I turned off my alarm clock and dressed as quickly as I could. I had an idea, but I did not know exactly how it was going to work. I only knew that I could not let him die because of me.

* * *

I dressed frantically in the dark, pulling on the same dress I worn in the park the day I wished Toby away. Somehow, it felt like the thing to do. It was a strange and solemn occasion that awaited, and it seemed right to dress up for it. Underneath, however, I wore the same grubby tennis shoes I had worn when Jareth and I had made our way through the icy North Wood. One of them was still missing a shoelace, so I had to be careful when I walked.

As quietly as I could, I tiptoed down the stairs and nearly tripped over Merlin who was sprawled in front of the door. He let out a whimper, and I fell to my knees to comfort him, hoping that the slight sound had not woken anyone else in the house.

He stuck his cold nose in my face, and no other noises followed. I breathed a sigh of relief and buried my face in Merlin's fur. Whatever happened, it was going to be a bad day that had started too early.

I patted Merlin once more, than opened the door as quietly as I could and slipped outside.

Even so early in the morning, the air was warm and muggy. A few birds had started to chirp in anticipation of the dawn, but otherwise the world was silent. There were no cars on the streets, and no other people in sight. I felt almost nothing on that walk. It was as if time had stopped for a short while, and all my worries and fears had to wait until it resumed. I felt an eerie calm during the silent minutes of that walk.

I hung onto that calm as best I could, knowing that the rest of the day would likely shatter than calm.

* * *

To begin with, once again I could not find Jareth. Remembering the previous occasion, I closed my eyes and began to walk. This time there was no icy wind to guide me, only the inexorable pull of my own feet. Yet they led me unerringly, and again I found myself colliding into Jareth. I opened my eyes to stare up at him.

He looked down at me out of his strange inhuman eyes. "I see you made it."

"I said I would," I replied softly.

Jareth gave a single brief nod in acknowledgment, then with no other words turned toward the nearby wood.

The North Wood looked different in summer, if it even was the same Wood. It was veiled entirely in green leaves, and the ground was all but carpeted in flowers. Before there had been no sign of animal or bird, but now the Wood seemed to be positively teeming with life. Without the snow, we were able to walk quickly along the forest path, making excellent time.

This time there was no need to stop and rest, and soon we stood in the same clearing as before. As of yet, there was no sign of the Holly King.

"Maybe he isn't coming?" I asked hopefully.

Jareth snorted at this. "It is not yet the moment of the solstice. Besides, first I must arm myself."

I sat down anxiously on a nearby hillock. "Do you need me to find another staff?"

"No. Not this time." Jareth was studying a large tree near the edge of the clearing. Looking at it, I was suddenly struck by the knowledge that it was the same tree that had sprouted from the body of the Holly King. He placed his hand on the bark of the tree and then wrenched his hand away. When he pulled back, the hand was holding the same silver sword the Holly King had born seventeen days before.

As if that were his cue, the Holly King strode into the clearing. While Jareth appeared a tired, shabby reflection of his usual self, the Holly King seemed full of new life. There was color now in his pale face, and his eyes sparked with light. The white tunic was now impossibly dark green, though still marked with the same tear-drops of crimson.

My heart nearly stopped, as terror overwhelmed me. I had avoided thinking about it ever since I left my home, but the reality of it was there now too close to ignore. The moment had come to do what I had come to do. It was the hardest thing I had ever done, harder than confronting Jareth at the end of the Labyrinth.

"Here you are again," the Holly King mused. "I had not thought you would have the courage to come here, Jareth."

"You were mistaken," Jareth said simply.

The Holly King looked at me. "I owe you an apology for my words before, my lady. Clearly, you chose your champion more wisely than I thought."

No, I had not, I thought. This whole situation was my fault, and it had resulted from my own thoughtlessness. Jareth should not be the one to pay the penalty.

"Have done." Jareth's voice was weary has he raised the sword.

"No," I said firmly taking a step toward Jareth.

Jareth turned his head to me. "Sarah," he whispered in a tone that should have brooked no argument, "do not interfere."

I had to interfere. I said nothing, only continued walking towards him, and Jareth stared at me in confusion. The Holly King watched us impassively.

"What are you doing?" Jareth demanded. "I explained why this had to happen. There is no refusing the call of fate."

I stood beside him now and reached out to him. My hands were shaking ever so slightly, and I am sure he noticed it. With trembling fingers, I untied the shoelace bound around his arm, and Jareth's eyes widened in comprehension.

"Sarah, no!" he breathed quietly.

I clutched the shoelace in my fist. "You are no longer my champion, Jareth. I will face the consequences of my actions myself!"

I knew that I was offering to take his death on myself, but it did not seem right that he should die for me. He was a king with a Labyrinth to rule. I was only a teenaged girl who never quite fit in. I had almost no friends at school, and in the long run, my family would probably happier with me gone. With all the passionate despair of sixteen, I knew that the world would lose nothing from my death.

The Holly King laughed. It was a cold, echoing sound, that did not invite mirth in those around him. I shuddered, wondering what I had done.

"You little fool," Jareth whispered. "I am immortal. I would have come back. It would have been painful and difficult, but I would have come back."

I understood now, why he had been willing, in spite of everything. He had not been walking to the end of everything, only to pain and trouble. Still, it was too late to change my actions. Said is said. "Give me the sword," I told him bleakly.

"Oh, no," said the Holly King, a hint of laughter still in his voice. "Do not give it to her, Jareth. The rules are different for her."

Jareth lowered the sword, his hands still resting lightly on its hilt. He looked over at the Holly King, and I could see that he too was surprised by these words."

"This has not happened in an age and an age." The laughter was gone now, replaced by what I could only call reverence. "When the Maiden has no champion, she does not die." He walked towards me with long, rapid strides. He looked down at me with the same sort of unearthly possessiveness I had seen in Jareth. His hand touched my cheek lightly, and I drew back, my courage abandoned. "She goes into the darkness alive, deep beneath the earth. Winter claims a bride, and the earth mourns her loss."

The Holly King was so close now that I could not see Jareth's face, though I could sense movement behind me. My heart was pounding in my chest. I was relieved that I would not die, but what the Holly King spoke of seemed nearly as frightening. It sounded as though I would have to marry the Holly King. I felt far too young for something like that, and yet I knew that I had to see this through and face the consequences of my actions.

The Holly King held out his arm to me. "Come. We have a long way to go."

In spite of my determination, I hesitated. Setting my hand upon his arm would be final, and that was enough to slow me just enough for Jareth to grab my arm and turn me forcefully around to face him.

His expression was strange. "Give us a moment for farewells," Jareth told the Holly King. "I trust you'll have your fill of her soon enough."

I could not see the Holly King's face, but his tone seemed calm. "Very well."

* * *

Jareth led me a short distance into the Wood. "I suppose it never occurred to you to tell what you intended to do before you did it."

It had. I had simply chosen not to. I did not respond to this accusation. "It- it was my choice to make." I stumbled over the words slightly.

"I should never expect anything with you to be easy." Jareth's voice was still filled with irritation, but the anger in his words was starting to fade. "There is not much time, Sarah, so do not interrupt me. I will come for you, but you must be patient. Make no promises, eat nothing he offers you, and do not lie with him."

"I can't go without food," I protested. "I'll starve!"

"You will not starve," Jareth replied flatly. With these words, he pressed his lips firmly against my own. I hesitate to call it a kiss, because it lasted only an instant and his lips did not move against mine at all, they were merely there and then gone.

Only there was nothing mere about it. It was like being struck my lightning, or at least how I imagine being struck by lightning would feel. There was pain and heat and a strange tingly sensation that went through me in an instant. I gasped for breath as he pulled away. "What-?"

He repeated himself. "You will not starve." Jareth took my hand again and began to pull me back towards the clearing. "Try not to do anything rash," he added quietly.

I did not understand what was happening at all, though I was coming accept that I rarely did when Jareth was involved. While I accepted it, I certainly did not like it.

When we emerged into the clearing, I saw the Holly King again, waiting patiently. His hand rested on a stave, much like the one Jareth had wielded at their earlier confrontation. Looking at him, I realized that he was going to take me far away, and I did not know what would happen to me or how long I would be gone. The part of me that was most frightened speculated that it might well be forever, and I had not even been able to say goodbye to my family. I had accepted this before, when I thought I was going to my death, but now I was going to have to live with the knowledge that I had left them without even a clue that I would not be returning.

I should have left a note, I thought grimly.

Again the Holly King held out his arm to me. "Come," he said again.

Jareth's hand released mine, and I realized that he had vanished as well. I stood alone with the Holly King in a glen of the North Wood. The moment had come, and I would have to go with him.

I drew in a deep breath, remembering how I had faced Jareth at the end of the Labyrinth. I tried to remember the will and courage I had summoned in myself to face him. To my surprise, it was there again within me, the strength I needed in that strange and horrible moment.

The skirt of my dress whipped around my ankles, and I wondered briefly what had happened to my shoes, because my feet seemed to be bare now. I gave this only the shallowest of thought, before walking across the clearing and setting my hand delicately on the Holly King's proffered arm. "What happens now?" I asked him softly.

"Now," he said. "I show you my kingdom."


	3. Gone

It should hardly surprise me that this story has taken on a life of its own. The matter of summer in winter had been intended as a short prelude before the actual story began, but then the way I thought of to resolve it had natural consequences. I had thought those natural consequences would lead in a certain direction, but then Sarah decided to do something else—reminding me that she is the sort of character who happens to things, rather than one that things happen to. From there, other consequences followed, and I can honestly say that I do not know if this story will ever get back on the track I had originally intended.

But that makes it sort of an adventure. Certainly, I could pick the story up by force and set it back upon its original path, but I think I'd prefer to chase after it and see where it goes.

* * *

_What is plucked will grow again,_

_What is slain lives on,_

_What is stolen will remain-_

_What is gone is gone._

-Peter S. Beagle, "Elli's Song," _The Last Unicorn_

* * *

It was as if I blinked, and then when I opened my eyes the world had changed utterly. I no longer stood in the North Woods, but in a strange, cold, dimly lit place. The air felt damp, and the tree branches had been replaced by what might either be massive icicles or stalactites. The light reflected off of them and the ground as if all were made of ice, but somewhere the hint of an echo in the air made me feel as if I were under the ground.

"Be welcome, my lady," the Holly King said quietly.

I looked around curiously. "This is your kingdom?"

"Yes," he replied shortly. "This is Acheron."

"Acheron," I echoed. It had an ominous sound to it. "Is it always this cold?"

A hint of amusement appeared in his face, and it made him seem a little less terrifying. "I am afraid so. This is not a place meant for a living, breathing mortal. Come, there is at least be fire in my halls, and you can warm yourself."

"Thank you," I said, then realized that I was not certain what to call him. "Um, do I just call you 'Holly King.'"

"No," he replied shortly. "You may call me Arawn. It is one of my lesser names."

"Lesser names?" I wasn't entirely certain what that meant.

Arawn clarified for me, as he led me down a glistening glistening path amidst icy pillars in the grey light of Acheron. "Creatures like Jareth and myself—you might call us demi-gods or Sidhe or fairies or numina or a host of other names, depending on who you are and where you live—are sensitive to certain names. So there are titles, and lesser names, by which we call ourselves, but our deepest names are secret, lest another use them to compel us."

"So, Jareth isn't his real name?" I guessed.

"No, though he has used it for many centuries, so it has some power, even has the name Arawn." He looked at me coolly. "After enough years among us, you will come to learn the importance of names, and even your own mortal name will take on power."

I shuddered at the thought of living years in this cold and misty realm. I hoped Jareth had told the truth when he said that he would come for me. "I don't want my name to have power. I just want to go home."

Arawn stared at me in silence. At last, he said, "I am sorry."

* * *

We came at last to a vast castle of the same shimmering substance that might have been ice or crystal. It had thick, high walls, and a single tower surrounded with crenelations. No light shone from any of the narrow windows, now could I see any door leading in. It was the most forbidding place I had ever seen.

I looked Arawn questioningly.

He set a hand on the wall and murmured something under his breath that I could not quite hear. A door appeared in the wall, and Arawn bowed indicating that I should proceed him. Hesitantly, I did so.

The courtyard within was still icy and cold, but it was at least an improvement upon what was without. A few straggly trees grew here, some of them even bearing red holly berries and other winter fruits. A frozen fountain stood at the center of the garden. "It must be lovely in spring," I murmured.

"We shall have to find out," Arawn answered. "Only the Maiden can bring spring into Caer Sidydd."

"Where?" I asked.

"That is this fortress' name," he explained. "Now, come, you are cold, and we must take you where there is some warmth." Arawn drew me to a door leading into the main hall of the castle.

As soon as he opened the door, we were greeted by the sound a dog barking loudly. Brief moment later, the dog appeared. It was a massive creature, its shoulder reaching my waist, with a lithe rangy build, resembling that of a wolf more than that of a domestic dog. Its coat was the dull white of bone, and its ears were a russet color as if they had been dipped in blood that had later dried. There was nothing domestic about this dog. It was fierce and dangerous.

For all that, it greeted Arawn with the cheerful bark of a companion long missed, and the Holly King rested his hand briefly on the creature's head, before turning to me. "This is my hound Gariel. He is one of the Wild Hunt, and he cannot be evaded. He will recognize you as mine now, but be careful nonetheless. He is a dread creature."

He was a beautiful dog, in spite of it. I held my flat hand out at waist level at such a distance as to be welcoming, but not so close that it was as if I were thrusting it into his face.

Gariel took two elegant steps forward and plunged his wet nose into my hand. He sniffed it deeply, then gently ran his tongue along the palm of my hand.

I looked up at Arawn. "He seems very fierce," I said with a straight face.

"He appears to like you," was Arawn's only response.

"I like dogs," I answered simply and thought of Merlin. I had suspected when I had last seen him at the door of our home that it might be for the last time, but I had not thought that I would be alive to miss him. Now, I found myself homesick for him, for Toby, for my father, even for my stepmother. Unless Jareth came for me, I would never see them again.

I set my hand lightly on Gariel's head and stroked in down his neck. He seemed to like it, so I repeated the gesture.

"Come," Arawn said for what seemed the hundredth time. "I must show you the Keep."

Reluctantly, I straightened.

Arawn led me through the Castle, showing me hundreds of varied rooms. I soon last track of the many ways through the Castle and all the many things he showed me. I remember the kitchens, which were blissfully warm after so long in the cold outside the castle, completely empty, but filled with the smells of cooking food. There was a whole suite of rooms dedicated to my use, but somehow they seemed empty and strange for all their elegance. I longed for my own room at home, with its toys and books. These rooms, I felt certain, would never feel like they were mine.

After showing me my suite of rooms, Arawn led me to a door only two doors down from my own. It was carved of ebony and bore no marking. "This is my own door," he informed me. "You may come to me at any time you wish, should there be anything you require." He added, "Though most often, you will have more luck seeking me in the main hall, but during the hours of night, this is where you will find me."

There was no hint of any improper advance in this little speech. It seemed only an offer of good hospitality. "Than you," I told him, thinking that nonetheless, I had no intention of visiting him there at any time for any reason.

He led me further down the passage to a spiraling staircase that seemed to lead upward into a tower. "This is the only place forbidden to you," Arawn explained in an uncomfortable tone. "I do not go up to the tower myself, and neither should you. I will not speak further on the subject."

I considered this in silence, as we continued our tour of the castle. I felt an incredible desire to know what lay beyond those stairs, and I wondered how long I would be able to restrain my curiosity. So many things seemed to be forbidden: promises, food, the mysterious stairs. I felt no desire to lie with Arawn or make him any promises, but I doubted that I could go more than a day or two without eating. Still, this latest admonition seemed the most senseless and the most tempting.

At last, we ended in the great hall, where there was a long table spread with food before a roaring fire on the hearth. It smelled heavenly, of fresh baked bread and roasting meat. I saw fresh fruit that glistened like jewels. My stomach rumbled.

"Please sit and eat," Arawn said.

Jareth had told me to eat nothing.

I sat down, but did not touch any of the food.

Arawn frowned. "My lady, does the food not meet with your approval?"

I did not want to be rude. I was very aware that it would be against the rules. What would be the correct thing to do? "I'm not hungry," I said at last, pushing the plate away.

Arawn's face flushed with anger, but he restrained himself. "Very well, you may return to your chambers."

I rose to my feet. I was not sure how to make my way back to the rooms he had shown me, but the chance to wander around on my own was too valuable to ignore.

As I left the hall, it occurred to me that I was not going to wait meekly for Jareth to rescue me.

* * *

My empty stomach was beginning to ache as I left, but I ignored it. I had a few suspicions as to why Jareth had insisted I not eat in Arawn's castle, and I did not want to do anything that would impede my chances of escape.

Instead, I made my way careful through the endless turnings of his castle, trying to map it out in my mind. It was large and confusing, but it did not seem to change endlessly as had the Labyrinth. This seemed to be a solid place that obeyed the normal rules of geometry. On the other hand, it seemed empty like the North Wood had been, without the strange ecosystem of life that Labyrinth had supported.

I mean that it was completely empty, as such a castle should not be. There was no sign of the hundred of residents who should fill such a place, tending the cleaning and cooking and other chores necessary to make it livable. The only beings I had encountered since entering Arawn's castle were Arawn himself and Gariel. This seemed an odd state of affairs, because I had even seen the kitchen, which should have been full of people. There had certainly been food there in various stages of preparation, but there had been no one doing it. Everything had been set down and the room had been eerily cold and silent.

The more I thought of it, the less than made sense. If Arawn had simply been summoning food into reality there would have been no signs of work being done in the kitchen. There had to be some sort of servants in this castle. I had simply not seen them. Perhaps, they had hidden when Arawn brought me to the kitchen?

Everything about Arawn's castle seemed off. Even then, as I wandered aimlessly through the corridors, searching for the way back to my suite of rooms, I felt as if I were being watched. Not merely in the remote way I had felt it in the Labyrinth, when I had been certain that Jareth was watching my every move, but much more closely, as if someone were right behind me, a constant presence. It was rather eerie.

While I had not been able to keep track of the many turnings from my rooms, I had been able to remember what my door looked like. It was the same dark wood as most of the other doors, but it was carved with intricate flowers of many kinds, and the handle was fashioned into an odd rounded shape with a star-pointed protrusion at the top.

I let myself into the room and saw that it had been laid out for me. There was a fire roaring on the hearth, the blanket had been pulled back, and a plain white shift had been laid out on the bed. The sense of being watched vanished as soon as I closed the door behind me, and I sighed in relief, before changing into the shift, which proved to be made of raw silk, and crawling into the bed.

It had not been a long day in hours, but it had felt very long indeed. Still, given my recent insomnia, the many things on my mind, and my empty stomach, I would have thought that I would have trouble sleeping, but the truth was that I almost immediately sank into a very deep sleep.

* * *

I was a little disoriented when I woke. The room was completely silent. At home, there is the sound the electricity running through the house, cars in the street, the dog moving around, sometimes Toby waking up and making a racket. There was never complete silence.

The air around me was cool, and the blankets were too thick, the sheets too smooth. At home, when I wake up, there is sunlight pouring in the window right in my face. Here the light was only a sad, gray glow, like an endless false dawn.

The disorientation did not last long, before I remembered what had happened the previous day. The thought should have made me depressed, but instead what I felt was curious. If I was stuck here for however long I was stuck here, I should find out as much as I could. I slipped out of the bed, the find the flagstone of the floor were icy cold. Looking around the room for my clothes of the previous day, I was surprised that I could not find them on the wooden chair where I had abandoned them.

Instead there was a long dress of pink-tinted white draped across the chair and a pair of delicate silk slippers on the ground beside it. Something strange that glittered rested on the dress, but I could not yet see what it was.

A wave of unease went through me. Someone had been in the room that night, while I was sleeping. I knew nothing about them, except that they had taken away my old clothes and left out new. Whoever it had been had seen me at my most vulnerable and could have done anything he or she had a mind too. This was beyond creepy; it was terrifying. Had it been Arawn?

He was the only person I had seen since arriving in Caer Sidydd, as I rather doubted that Gariel would have been able to lay out clothing.

With that thought, my terror turned to anger, and ignoring the chill of the Keep and the fact I did not know my way, I strode out of the room, pacing angrily through the halls with the intention of telling him exactly what I thought of him going into my room while I was asleep. I did not change out of the flowing night dress or even put the slippers on my feet. I was too filled with wrath to feel the cold of the flagstones.

The previous night during my explorations, I had done my best to map out the way between my room and the great hall, but I had slept since then, so I still made a number of wrong turnings before I finally reached the vast room.

A fire still burned on the hearth, and the table was still piled high with food. The sight should have made me hungry, but I was still too caught up in my rage to give the food more than a second thought.

Arawn sat at the center of the table, his eyes on me. "Good morning, Lady Sarah. Have you come to break your fast?"

I strode toward him so that only the table and its contents was between us. "How dare you enter my room without my permission?" I accused him.

"I did not," he replied simply, taking a drink from a silver goblet. I knew instinctively that like Jareth, we would not lie to me directly, though he would certainly deceive me.

I glared at him. "My own clothes are gone, and others were laid out. Someone was in my room. Who was it?"

Arawn did not answer at first, silent as if he were choosing his words carefully. "It does not matter. I will see to it that it does not happen again."

While I was relieved that he had not been in my room, I still did not know who had. Additionally, his unwillingness to tell me kept my anger from completely dying. "Fine." I turned away, planning to return to my room and dress in something warmer than the nightgown.

Arawn called after me, "Will you not stay to eat with me?"

I did not turn to face him. "No."

* * *

I was hungry, yes, and the food looked delicious, but I was not hungry enough to disregard Jareth's warning. Indeed, I felt less hungry than I had expected. My stomach felt empty, and occasionally growled, but it did not cramp painfully, as one would expect after two missed meals. Nor did I feel light-headed or weak. It was only the sort of hunger one feels after a long and busy afternoon just before dinner.

I returned to my room, this time with more confidence and fewer false turns. Once there, I rapidly changed into the dress that had been laid out for me, brushed my dark hair, and placed the slippers upon my feet.

Also, I discovered what the glittering object had been. It was a golden pendant in the shape of a flower. Its center was a tiny dark red stone, and the petals appeared to be carved quartz. All this beauty seemed incongruous, for it was strung upon a worn and dirty shoelace. In spite of this, I placed this strange necklace about my throat, thinking that it did seem somehow appropriate. After all, that shoelace was the reason that I was here.

Once I had finished dressing, I settled in front of the fire to consider what to do next. I still wanted to know who had been in my room during the night. Who had cooked the magnificent food on that grand table? Perhaps the answer was one and the same. I had seen no one in the kitchen before, but perhaps they had hidden when Arawn had brought me there.

I could try to sneak upon them unawares and discover what sort of servants staffed this strange castle.

With this determination, I slipped quietly from my room and made my way through the halls, trying to muffle my footsteps. By now, I was pretty certain of the way to the main hall, but I was less sure of the way to the kitchen. I reasoned that it could not be far from the hall, given that the food had been steaming on the table—though I supposed that could be the work of magic.

Still, it made no sense for the kitchen not to be near the hall, with all the work involved in bringing such mass quantities of food from one place to the other. Thus I traced my way towards the hall and then explored some of the side corridors as quietly as I could, until at last I came to one that opened into the kitchen.

I waited outside for some time, listening to see if I could hear any sound from the room beyond. I did. There were no voices, but I could hear the bubbling of a pot and the muted sounds of a knife cutting through some sort of vegetable. There were the sounds of footsteps too, and of something creaking slightly, though I was not certain what.

There were definitely people of some sort in that kitchen. I hesitated, wondering if it would be better to fling the door open and surprise them or if I would have better fortune cracking it open slightly and peeking within. Both seemed equally plausible, though the second plan might mean that they would not know that I had seen them.

Despite that advantage, I opened the door suddenly and rapidly. I did not feel like being a coward. I would confront all the strangeness of this place openly.

As soon as I could see what lay beyond, my eyes widened in shock. The room appeared to be empty, though the knife rose and fell once more before it clattered to the cutting board. The spoon that had been stirring the pot of stew stilled, though it did not sink into the stew or float to the top as it should have. It simply froze, as did the turning spit over the fire, the source of the creaking noise I had heard.

The truth struck me immediately. Arawn's servants were invisible. That was why I had not seen them during my previous visit to the kitchen and why I had sometimes felt like I was being watched. It was likely one of them who had entered my room during the night. "I know you are there," I said.

There was a moment's pause, then the work of the kitchen resumed, but more quietly than before, as if there attention were still on me. The spit turned, the stew was stirred, and the knife rose up and down, slicing potatoes.

This new knowledge was not as much of a relief as I would have liked it to be. I had solved one of the mysteries of Arawn's castle, but there were so many more that were still unanswered. Additionally, the thought of invisible servants was a little frightening. It meant that I had no idea how many there were or even what they were and how they looked.

"Can you speak?" I asked.

The spoon ceased stirring again, and there was the sound of someone moving through the kitchen. I followed the sound of the footsteps until they stopped before a large cabinet. The cabinet opened, and then three items were drawn from it by invisible hands. At least, I assume they were hands. They could easily have been paws or talons or even tentacles, and I would never have known.

The two items were a sheet of parchment, a small jar of ink, and a large feather pen. The invisible person took them to the near by counter, then gestured me over with a gesture of the pen, before scratching a single word on the paper. The word was "No."

It took me a moment to remember the question I had originally asked, then I understood. The invisible servants could not speak, but plainly they could write. "How many of you are there?" was my next question.

The tip of the pen tapped against the paper several times, before the invisible hand holding it scrawled out, "18."

That seemed like a lot, until I considered how vast Caer Sidydd was. It was actually quite a small number to maintain a castle of that size. On the other hand, a lot of those rooms seemed to have been left to themselves for a long time, judging by the layers of dust I had seen in some of them. "Are you human?" I pondered.

The word "No" was underlined, then before I could ask another question, the pen wrote another word on the page. "Once."

"So you used to be human, but you aren't anymore?" I stated aloud, just to be certain I had understood correctly.

"Yes" appeared on the paper.

I thought about Toby and Jareth's threat to turn him into a goblin. "Were you human and then Arawn turned you into something else?"

"No" was underlined a second time.

I frowned in puzzlement until a crease appeared in my forehead. "What happened so that you weren't human anymore?"

Painstakingly the pen began to print. "We died."

A shudder ran through me, and I understood at last. "You're ghosts."

The pen drew a thick dark line under the word "Yes."

This was as much as I could take at the moment. I set a hand against the stone wall beside me and drew in a slow deep breath. "Thank you very much for answering my questions. I'll leave you to your work." With those words, I turned away and walked as calmly as I could back to my rooms.

There I discovered that the bed had been made in my absence. I flung myself onto it head first, then turned over to stair up at the empty ceiling. Everything about Caer Sidydd was so strange, and strange in such a different way from the Labyrinth. The Labyrinth had been full of strange nonsensical things, yes, but Caer Sidydd was mysterious and frightening. Every new thing I discovered here seemed full of dire omens. I did not like it one bit.

I fell asleep on top of the covers, my mind consumed with thoughts of the strange place in which I had found myself. I thought of Toby and my father and wondered what they thought had happened to me, until at last my dreams were of home, and the things I had left behind.

* * *

I was startled awake by a loud knock on my door. I rubbed my eyes and rose to cross the room. When I opened the door, I was not at all surprised to see Arawn standing there. "What do you want?" I asked crabbily, as I never wake up in a good mood.

"It is time that matters between us were formalized," he replied solemnly. "Come with me." He held out his arm, and it was clear that it never occurred to him that I would refuse to take it.

That sort of certainty is always irritating, so I stepped out into the all, but did not place my hand on the proffered arm.

This startled him, and he did not seem to know how to respond. I did not help him, only waited until, at last, he began to walk down the hall. I followed him, and in spite of my curiosity did not ask him any questions or speak to him at all. This seemed to confuse and frustrate him further, and it was the best I could do not to smile at his discomfort.

Arawn led me back to the main hall. It appeared to be empty and for once the table was not covered in food. Still, the room felt full somehow, and I suspected that every single one of his ghostly servants was crowded into the room watching. Arawn walked to the high front of the room, just before the high table and turned to face me and the room. "I told you when I brought you here that winter would claim a bride. It is time for you to wed me."

I frowned at him. "What exactly is involved?"

Arawn gestured to the table, and at last I saw the three items lying upon it. One was a cord of braided silk. Another was a simple bone knife with an edge so thin that it was nearly transparent. The third and final item was a cup full of dark wine. "Our hands are bound together, our blood is spilled together, then we speak our vows. After we both drink of the cup. Then we are wed by the custom of my people."

Jareth's words came back to me, _Make no promises_. Vows were promises. "I will not make any vows to you," I told him firmly. "I agreed to come here with you. That is all. That is enough." A part of me was certain that it was true. I was not certain he could even keep me there against my will. Otherwise, how could Jareth have claimed that he would come for me?

"You must," Arawn insisted.

"No," I said more loudly. "I will not!" If Jareth had no power over me, then neither did Arawn. "I will not!"

Arawn stepped backward. "He warned you," he said in a low dangerous tone. "It's why you haven't eaten. No food and no oaths, that was it, wasn't it? That treacherous bastard!"

For all the Jareth was my enemy as often as not, I did not like to hear Arawn speak of him so. "He was acting as my friend."

"He seeks to steal what is mine by right," Arawn replied. "But you are both wrong. Jareth will not have you. He cannot come for you yet, it is too soon, and many things may change before he can come for you, my lady. You would be wise to accept what I offer you. Bind your hand and your fate with mine, and you will rule here as a queen."

Once that offer might have tempted me, but I had grown tired of similar offers from Jareth. They were never what they seemed. "I don't want to be a queen," I told him firmly. "I am here, because that was my part of the bargain, so that the summer wouldn't go on forever, but I don't have to do anything more than that." I considered the events I had seen. "You said he can't come yet. Yet means it's a matter of time." I put the pieces together. "The Oak King and the Holly King were supposed to meet at the longest day of summer and the longest night of winter. You can't hold me longer than that, can you? If I don't wed you before then, you have to let me go!"

Arawn's face was always white, but it seemed even paler now. "In six months," he said coldly, "I think you will find that you become very hungry."

My face fell. He was right. I might not feel my hunger very deeply yet, but six months was too long for me to go without food.

Still, Jareth's words echoed back to me, _You will not starve_. He had said it twice with such certainty that I had almost believed him. Something inside me burned, and I met Arawn's gaze. "I'll last longer than you think."


	4. Shrouded in Mystery

_The fearful heart can be defended with laughter_

_The fox can be tamed by the young prince's hand_

_The mighty rocks bow to the strength of the climber_

_The lion may lie in repose with the lamb_

_Stone markers set me on the path with alacrity_

_Sweet agony to be sundered away_

_So shrouded in mystery, full of surprises_

_I will return when my heart can't betray_

-Beth Patterson, "Quel Esprit," _On Better Paths_

* * *

The days and weeks that followed were difficult. Arawn began to require that I sit with him at meal times, clearly with the intention that I would have to sit there staring at the food twice a day. This plan partially succeeded. It certainly made me hungry, but more than that it made me angry. The entire time I sat there across from him, I was glaring at him. When he tried to make conversation, I would answer in cool monosyllables.

It became clear to me after about five days that something strange was happening. While I had not eaten since the night before I left home-and that night I had been too anxious to do more than pick at my food—I showed no signs of weakening. The ache in my stomach grew no worse. I was hungry, but not starving. There were no scales for me to be certain, but I do not think that I even lost any weight.

Aside from meals, I found myself increasingly bored. There was only so long I could wander the halls of Caer Sidydd. I eventually found a library, which should have been some form of entertainment, but all of the books were filled with strange lines with a series of hash marks through them. Even though the spirits all seemed able to communicate by written English, it was clearly not Arawn's language of choice. Eventually, I found something that resembled a chess set, but the board was too wide and there were more pieces than I was familiar with. I did not know how it was played, nor did I have anyone to play it with, because I had absolutely no intention of asking Arawn to teach me. Being alone and bored was better than giving him the satisfaction.

I kept track of the days that passed on a piece of parchment I kept beside the bed. In the absence of meals and any sight of the sun or moon, it was difficult to judge how many days had passed, so I was forced to rely almost entirely on my sleep cycle, which had been irregular for about a month, though now I slept more rather than less. Another cycle that should have helped me in keeping track of the time had also been irregular for some time, due to first the lack of sleep, then the lack of food.

Because of these limitations, I was not very confident in my makeshift calendar. I was certain that it had been at least twenty days and that it had not been more than twice that.

In my bored wanderings through the castle, I found myself lingering outside the forbidden stair more and more often. I had the feeling that sooner or later I was going to climb those steps, even though I knew it was a stupid thing to do. It was simply the only thing left to do. Hunger was not as harsh a weapon as I had feared, but boredom . . . boredom might well be the death of me.

* * *

It was Gariel that saved me. One afternoon, or perhaps it was the middle of the night for all that I knew, I had made my way out to the icy courtyard for a change of air, and in the hopes of distracting myself from the eternally tempting staircase.

It was cold, of course, just like everywhere that didn't have a fire burning. I was so used to the cold by this time, that I barely noticed it, especially as it was less unpleasant than the constant hunger and the more constant boredom. I was pacing the tiny courtyard in what I believed was the late afternoon, though the sky was the same dull gray that it always was. I was becoming quite certain that I was underground.

Gariel was lying stretched out near the fountain. Every time that I walked near, he would lift his head expectantly, then lower it as I moved past him. This repeated over and over, as I paced. At first, I did not notice it, but once I did, I could not help smiling. I might dislike his owner, but Gariel seemed to be a good dog, even if he was some sort of terrifying mystical hunting hound. I had never seen him act any differently from a normal dog.

Because he looked so hopeful when I came close, I started stroking his head lightly as I walked past. This resulted in him pricking up his russet ears happily, and after I had passed by three times, he rose to his feet and walked beside me, so that my hand remained resting on his head. His fur was surprisingly soft, closer to the texture of a cat's fur than a dog's, and the warmth of his body passed along to me as I ran my hand through his fur.

Without meaning to, I began to speak my thoughts out loud. "I'm homesick. I hate it here. I wish I could go."

Gariel looked up at me. His eyes were an odd shade of blue, much like his master's. They weren't the usual heart-melting chocolate brown color of most dogs' eyes. I had seen pictures of wolves and huskies with eyes like that, but though they should have been intimidating, they seemed sympathetic. He licked my hand, as if encouraging me to continue.

So I did, pouring out my feelings to the nonjudgmental ears of a dog. "I don't know if I can trust Jareth to come for me, and I'm not entirely sure what he did to me. I think it must have been when he kissed me."

It had been such a strange kiss, nothing like I had imagined my first kiss would be. There had been nothing romantic about it, though it had certainly been exciting. Jareth had done it without a trace of emotion, as if it were only the method of delivery for whatever it was he had done. I was almost certain that kiss was the reason I was not starving. Jareth had, after all, promised me that I would not starve, just as he had kissed me.

"I should be terrified," I mused, "but I'm just . . . not. I'm bored, and I miss my family. I think something must be wrong with me, Gariel, because I'm not afraid and I'm not starving. I just . . . I feel like there should be something more I can do."

Gariel had no response to this, though he looked up at me again with apparent sympathy, and he stayed with me, as I paced out my frustrations. When I stopped and wandered back into the halls, he accompanied me then too, even following me into my room, where he lay down by the fire and smiled at me with the open-mouthed grin of a happy dog.

* * *

That evening at dinner I filled a plate with a few slices of meat from the dripping roast that had been placed in front of me. Arawn's eyes widened hopefully, as I cute them into several bite-sized pieces, but his face fell when I began feeding the pieces to Gariel one by one. I was very careful to make sure he did not accidentally nip one of my fingers.

"You are cruel," Arawn mused.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "What do you mean?" I was pretty sure that I knew.

Arawn stared at me. "You raised my hopes and then crushed them. You never intended to eat that, but you allowed me to think for a few moments that you would." He glanced down at Gariel. "You also seem to have suborned my dog."

I shrugged. "You don't seem very angry."

There was a hint of a smile on his face. "I'm not. After all, I have plenty of time. Unlike Jareth, I can play the long game." He chuckled ominously. "It is only the fall equinox, and I have you until spring."

"What?" I exclaimed. I was equally stunned that my count had been so far wrong and by the knowledge that I had so much more left to go.

"As I have said, the rules applying to the Maiden are different." His mouth quirked slightly to the side. "The relevant days at the equinoxes instead of the solstices."

I understood the significance immediately. "You mean that I did not have to be here until today. You lied to me!"

Arawn shook his head. "I never lied. I allowed you to believe untrue things. There is a crucial difference."

I glared at him. This was very unwelcome news, and it was becoming increasingly clear that there was a lot I didn't understand. "How about you explain to me exactly how this Maiden gig is supposed to work."

"Very well." Arawn began. "There are two ways in which the seasons can be maintained. The Maiden is the older way. It has not been used for a very long time. The Maiden comes to Caer Sidydd in the autumn, and the Earth grieves for her throughout the winter. Provided, she obeys the correct rules, she may leave in the spring and never return, but should she promise otherwise or eat of the food . . . then she must return in the fall and every year that follows so long as she lives."

No wonder Jareth had told me not to eat anything or make any promises. I wondered about that third warning. Perhaps Arawn had neglected to mention it for a reason. I frowned at him. "Why are you telling me this? Now that I know, I'll never do either of those things!"

"That is what you believe now," he acknowledged, "but I still have hope that you may change your mind. Besides, you asked me in good faith, and you are owed the full story." Arawn looked at me seriously. "Others have known and still conceded before the spring. My first bride did so, as did the last."

"So," I asked, "why do you fight over it instead now? I mean, the Oak King and the Holly King . . . it's very bloody."

Arawn nodded grimly. "It is. Ultimately, Sarah, great magic always comes down to blood or sex, however much we might wish to deny it."

I stared at him. "That doesn't mean that I have to-"

"No," he said firmly. "It is the potential for it that is crucial. You are a young woman, ripe for bedding, and you have come down into the dark depths of the earth in the darkest part of the year: life and the potential for life in the midst of death. Do you understand?"

I wasn't certain about the "ripe for bedding" part, but the symbolism made a certain sort of sense. I fed Gariel the last piece of meat from my plate. "You still didn't answer my question about why it changed. You said this way is older. Why did it change?"

For the first time, I noticed that there was a great deal of sadness in Arawn's eyes. "The last Maiden did not want to return in the spring. She stayed until the summer equinox, when a champion was sent to bring her back. We fought in the North Wood, and I was slain. I rose the following winter and fought him again, but-" He stopped. "That is all, really."

It clearly wasn't all, but it was all that he was going to tell me.

"So, as long as I go back in the spring, there doesn't have to be another fight like that?" I did not like Arawn, but the sight of him impaled by the tree's roots had been horrible. I would prefer to never see that sign again.

"Provided I can find another Maiden next autumn," Arawn answered. "Otherwise, I'll fight again come winter." He said it casually. "Assuming, of course, that you do not stay. You may find yourself wishing to."

I looked at him coldly. "I do not wish to stay here with you." I rose from the table and stalked out of the room.

I could hear Arawn's tired sigh behind me.

Gariel followed me.

* * *

That night I was awakened by the most terrifying sound I had ever heard. It was like hundreds of dogs, thunder, and an elephant all at the same time. I had no idea what it was, but my heart was pounding. It was not coming from within my room.

When I had gone to sleep, Gariel had been lying by the hearth. He was gone now and the fire had burned itself out. My room was cold. I sat up and looked around, trying to get up the courage to seek the source of the sound. It seemed to be growing louder.

Curiosity is a far greater force than fear in me, so I slipped out of the bed and went to my room's window.

There was an eerie green light outside, though I could not see its source. There was still no hint of sky visible, but there was a sound against my window that I was certain was wind, though it was hard to hear it over the strange other sound that echoed through the stones of the hall. I had to find out what it was.

I wasn't even sure where to look, but I rushed out of my room and into the hallway.

It felt empty, as it had never felt before. The odd feeling of being watched was gone.

A realization came to me. If I wanted answers, I would have to find Arawn. While I had been determined that I would never seek Arawn out in his own room, it was clearly my only option. I frowned, but paced down the hall to the ebony door and knocked on it loudly. I could barely hear my hand against the wood over the strange sound that was still echoing in the night air.

No answer came.

I knocked again, even louder than before.

There was still no response.

I was frustrated now, as well as frightened. Arawn had told me to come to him at any time, and now he was not responding, the one time I wanted to see him. In a moment of defiance, I decided that if he did not answer again, I would find out if the door would open and barge into his room. That, I thought, would teach him a lesson.

I knocked for a final time, and then when it was greeted only by the same horrific noise that had been filling Caer Sidydd, I placed my hand on the door's knob and tried to turn it.

It was not locked, and I so I stepped inside the dark room beyond it.

If I had been expecting something strange and ominous, I would have been disappointed. In truth, I had not been expecting anything at all. I had refused to even think about entering his room until that night, and that night I had too many other things on my mind to speculate. In truth, the room was much like my own, though the furnishings were somewhat more masculine in style. There a was a bed, a table, a fireplace, two chairs, and an abundance of tapestries.

Arawn was not in the room, nor was there any sign that he had been there recently.

I was so stunned by this development that I only stared for several minutes, but the noise was still just as loud, so I turned and ran out of the room. Perhaps he was still in the banquet hall, I thought desperately.

* * *

The banquet hall was just as empty, but as I grew closer to the courtyard, I could tell that the noise seemed louder. As soon as I knew the hall was empty I returned to the nearest corridor and followed it until it led out into the courtyard. I threw open the door and stared out into the night.

I was greeted by a strange sight. The immense courtyard was full of men on horseback, and other dogs like Gariel, though none quite as large. Gariel was there, a massive presence at the foot of the tallest and darkest horse there. Arawn himself was astride the same horse, his cloak black and his head topped by a strange horned headdress.

I stared at this sight in wonder. I remembered Arawn saying that Gariel was a part of something called the Wild Hunt, and I knew instinctively that this was it. I also knew that it was the most dangerous thing I had seen yet. The men were all strange and grim-faced, and it was clear that none of them were human. They were all like Arawn, whatever it was he had called himself: fae and numina.

I had no notion what numina meant, but I had read enough stories to know that fae meant a strange, intelligent, and powerful being of the Otherworld. Those stories had all been as terrifying as they were wondrous.

"You ought not to be out tonight, Sarah." Arawn's voice sounded different now, sort of hollow and deep at the same time. "You are mortal enough that the Hunt could be a danger to you. Go back inside, and I will explain it all to you in the morning."

I did not want to do as he said, but the strange light that filled the courtyard, the ferocious growls of the dogs, and the spectral faces of the Huntsmen were enough to convince. I slipped back inside, barred the door, and ran back to my room.

* * *

I did not sleep again that night, only huddled in my bed, trying to make sense of what I had seen. Arawn at the head of that strange company, the dogs, the horses, the strange green light. It had been a scene out of a nightmare.

The sound finally vanished about an hour later, but I still could not sleep. I was too keyed up, but there was nothing I could do to distract myself. I sat up in the dark room for the rest of the night, shivering under the blankets. After an hour or so, there was a shuffling sound at my door and a slight whimper.

I was pretty certain that it was Gariel, but after the sight of him with the rest of that company and the other dogs like him that I did not know, I felt a moment of fear before I opened the door.

It was Gariel, and he no longer seemed terrifying and fierce, only a cold, wet dog with a long scrape along his flank. It was scabbed over, as if it had happened hours before, though there had been no sign of an injury on him when I saw him in the courtyard. He stuck his icy nose in my hand, and I patted his head. "What happened to you?" I mused. "You're hurt."

Gariel obviously did not reply. He jumped up onto my bed and thumped her tail against the comforter. His tongue lolled out, and he looked pretty pleased with himself.

"I'm pretty sure that you're not supposed to get on the furniture," I told him.

While I was positive that Gariel could understand me, he did not jump down from the bed. I could not bring myself to mind much. Instead, I climbed back into the bed and stroked his head absently while I waited for the night to end.

* * *

I had no way of actually knowing if it was morning, but when it felt like enough time had passed, I dressed myself in a dark red dress from the closet and made my way down to the great hall. Gariel followed me. I wondered if he was going to be my constant companion now.

The table was already filled with food, and Arawn was sitting in his usual place. "Good morning, Sarah," he said. "Join me."

I sat down beside him. "Tell me about the Wild Hunt," I demanded with no further prelude.

Arawn laughed. "Shall I spend the rest of the winter educating you on ways of myth? The Wild Hunt is a force of chaos and winter. Between the fall equinox and Candlemas- Do you know when Candlemas is?"

I shook my head.

"The second of February. Once it was one of the greatest holidays of the year, the harbinger of coming spring, but now mortals watch to see if a rat will see its shadow or not, and most often forget the day entirely." Arawn's voice was serious. "Between those two holidays, the Wild Hunt rides on particularly cold or dark nights."

"What do you hunt?" I had a terrible feeling that I already knew the answer.

"Whatever will flee," he said simply. "It is older and darker magic even than the Maiden, Sarah, and it would be best if you have nothing to do with it."

I was willing to go with that. I wanted nothing more to do with the terrifying figures I had seen in the courtyard. "Are you going out again tonight?"

"I will not know until it is time to ride," Arawn said.

"How do you know?" I frowned at him. This all seemed very strange.

"I know," was his only reply.

This was clearly all that he was willing to tell me, so I left the table again to pace the halls with Gariel by my side.

* * *

Several more days passed in much the same manner. I tried to keep track of the date, but knew that my calendar could not be very accurate. Arawn left at irregular hours, often at times that I had been certain were during the day. Yet his absence was accompanied by the strange and terrible noises of the Wild Hunt, and Gariel would vanish from my side at the same times. During these times, I would seclude myself in my room and avoid looking out the windows at the green glow that surrounded the castle. I was under the impression that Arawn sometimes rode very far on these night, yet somehow, the light and sound of the Hunt never vanished from Caer Sidydd. It was as if no matter where he went, somehow Caer Sidydd went with him.

Sometimes, Gariel would come back injured after, as he had that first night. Most nights, he did not. One morning, it was Arawn who seemed to have been wounded, for his left arm was bandaged and restricted by a sling. He refused to answer any questions about it.

One night was particularly bad. The noise seemed louder and the light brighter. Then there was the sound of something clawing at my window.

The gauzy white curtains made it impossible to see what it was, but my heart was pounding in terror. Nothing I had seen in the assembled company of the Wild Hunt had claws, but I might have missed something important. With all the strange horror of the night, the thought of something trying to get into my room was enough to make my blood run cold.

The sound did not cease, however, and I began to grow curious. Surely, it would do no harm to just look?

Slowly, I crept from the bed. It took an enormous effort of will to approach the window, but I was determined now. Step by step, I forced myself to cross the floor, and then I grasped the thin fabric of the curtain to peek at what was beyond.

It was a snowy owl. Jareth had come.

* * *

It took me several minutes to figure out how to open the window to let him in, but soon he was standing in the room with me, his clothing covered in snowy feathers and gold embroidery in the shape of talons. "Well, Sarah, have you missed me?"

I wasn't certain if I had missed him, exactly, but I was certainly glad to see him. "Arawn said you couldn't come until spring."

Jareth sniffed. "I expect he said no such thing. He said that you could not leave until the spring, and he was quite right. I will return for you then, but the opportunity came to visit you sooner, and I wanted to see that you were well. Have you done anything foolish?"

"What do you mean by that?" I demanded.

"I gave you three rules," he said holding up three of his fingers. "Have you broken any of them?"

"No," I responded immediately. "No food, no promises, no-" I broke off, embarrassed to repeat the last one, but finally said, "sex."

Jareth gave a curt nod and looked down at me. "You have almost five months left. See that you continue to be careful."

"I will," I said in a defiant tone. Then I demanded, "What did you do to me?"

He raised his eyebrows in mock innocence. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Why am I not starving?" I clarified, meeting his mismatched gaze. It felt like he was mocking me. It always felt like he was mocking me.

Jareth's voice was low. "Perhaps it is better if I do not tell you until you are safely home. You might let something unfortunate slip."

I took a step closer to him and repeated my original question, my eyes still fixed on his. "What did you do to me, Jareth?"

"Such curiosity and willpower," he mused. "If only you applied it properly."

"Please, tell me what you did to me." I tried phrasing it sweetly as a request.

"Very well," he growled. Now he was the one that advanced towards me, and I became very aware of how he towered over me. "I gave you a little piece of immortality. Don't worry, I intend to take it back, but it will keep you alive for the next five months." He took my chin in his hand and tilted my head up at an uncomfortable angle, so that I still met his eyes. "You can say thank you."

"Thank you," I spat. "What's the price?" I knew enough from stories to know that something like this had one.

Jareth's gaze was still bound to mine. "I give it to you freely," he whispered. Suddenly, he released my chin and stepped backwards. "I thought you would be hungry, so I brought you some food."

A small plate appeared in his hands, filled with small cakes adorned with candied flowers, cookies shaped like flowers, an assortment of sugar-coated fruit, and tiny fruit formed out of marzipan. "Sweets?" I asked in puzzlement. I was hungry, but these did not look like they would satisfy much appetite, but would sicken the stomach with sugar.

Jareth looked at the plate briefly, as if that thought had only just occurred to him. "Perhaps not." The cakes and candies became good, wholesome bread, and the marzipan became cheese. The fruit remained, though it was no longer coated in sugar. "Does this more wholesome fare meet with your approval?"

"I thought that I wasn't supposed to eat here," I stated flatly. Something about this offer made me nervous.

"It's food from this realm that can bind you here," Jareth explained. "I brought this from outside."

I thought of the peach in the Labyrinth and of the food he had given me in the North Wood. "And where would this food bind me, Jareth? In fact, what about the food you've given me before? You said I'd still be able to go home, but did you lie to me?"

Jareth hesitated and the plate of food in his hands disappeared. "I did not lie to you. I simply did not tell you a complete truth. You have not eaten enough food from the Labyrinth to bind you there permanently. You can return home, but you cannot return home forever."

I understood now. It had been a rotten trick. "So, I've been doomed since I took that bite of peach!"

Jareth said nothing.

"Well?" I demanded. "How much of the year do I have to spend in the Labyrinth?"

"It doesn't work that way," Jareth replied. "That's the myth of Persephone . . . I see you recognize it, but it's not about time. Time is nothing!" He made a casual gesture of his hand. "It's a perception that mortals need and the rest of us choose to accept for convenience. Food is life, Sarah, and connections. Mortals hide from that truth now, but once they knew that to eat of a beast is to take in its strength, to eat of a plant is to assume its virtues."

"What does it mean?" I asked quietly.

Jareth's face was almost emotionless. "It means that there is something that binds you to my world, Sarah. Try however hard you can, you will never stray far. Something inside of you will keep pulling you back, because you are a part of the Labyrinth, and it is a part of you."

My heat was pounding in my chest. I had never guessed. "Go away, Jareth!" I commanded him. "I don't want to see you right now."

He gave a courtly bow. "Very well, Sarah. Until the spring." His arms were still spread in this gesture when they became wings. He flew out the window and was gone as suddenly as he had come.

I let out a slow shaky breath. This was too much to absorb too quickly. I bolted the window through which he had entered and then flung myself onto the bed.

Almost five months to go.


	5. Those Who Look Up

_Those who look up,_

_Hearts that hurt for height and heaven,_

_Those who look up see_

_What never falls to earth._

_Armies hurled against the hall_

_Cannot breach the outer wall_

_The castle built of thundercloud_

_Will only yield_

_To those who look up_

_Hands held out aloft and empty . . . ._

-Emma Bull, "For It All," _War for the Oaks_

* * *

The castle grew colder. I began to find frost on my window periodically, and I started to use this as another way of identifying the passage of time.

Arawn's rides with the Wild Hunt seemed more frequent, even as the temperature dropped. I suspected that we were approaching the heart of winter, and this theory was soon confirmed.

I had been just about to go to bed, after one of those awkward, hungry meal-times, when Arawn called after me. "Wait, Sarah."

I turned to stare at him in the doorway, Gariel standing beside me. My hand was buried in the soft fur of his shoulders. "What is it?"

"Come with me." Arawn rose to his feet and held out his arm. He clearly expected me to come to him.

I frowned. "What do you want, Arawn?"

Arawn still hold out his arm, waiting for me to cross the room and take it. "I want a good many things, Sarah, many of them beyond your understanding. As I am sure you know, I want you to promise me to return next autumn, but I do not expect to change your mind tonight. For the moment, I wish merely to walk and talk with you." He paused, then added, "There is something I wish to show you."

"Alright." I agreed mostly, because I could not help wondering what he wanted to show me, and going with him was the only way to find out.

As soon as my hand rested on his arm, Arawn led me from the room and out into the courtyard. I expected him to open the door in the castle's wall again, but I was mistaken. Instead, he led me to a ladder up the wall that I had never noticed before. He gestured that I should proceed him up the ladder.

"No," I said flatly. "I'm wearing a dress. You can go first."

"Do you think that I would behave in so unchivalrous a manner?" he inquired. Arawn sounded genuinely offended.

I hesitated before answering, not because I thought that he would, but because it occurred to me that Jareth probably would. I had not taken much time to compare the two of them in my mind before, but the differences were striking. Both were bossy and demanding, and both seemed to follow rules that I did not entirely understand. Of the two, Arawn did seem the more honorable, but he was also somehow the more frightening. I had seen him that one night, astride the black horse, and whatever else he seemed, there was something dark and wild beneath, and I was very aware of it.

There was more to Jareth as well, but the core of him seemed to be much more similar to what was near the surface. Besides, there was something playful about Jareth, and even when it irritated me, I preferred it to dreading the strangeness that lay beneath Arawn's facade. Besides, given my own hobbies, I can hardly fault Jareth for liking to play, however strange a form that play takes. Arawn, however . . . I'm not certain if he even knows how to laugh.

"You would not," I admitted at last and began to climb the ladder.

When I reached the top of the wall, I looked out at the strange silvery landscape that extended in all directions, while I waited for Arawn to climb up after me. When he stood beside me, I asked him the question that had been puzzling me, ever since I arrived. "Are we underground or is this all ice? I'm not sure if I'm seeing the sky or not."

Arawn glanced out. "The correct answer is 'yes.'"

I stared at him and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Yes, we are underground. Yes, it is all ice. Yes, you are seeing the sky." He gave these opposing matter-of-fact answers, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Death, winter, and night . . . I have power in all these things, so is it strange that my realm is made up of all of them?"

Put that way, it did make a strange sort of sense, in the same way that within the world of a print, Escher makes a sort of sense. I thought about the Labyrinth, which was clearly Jareth's realm, and wondered what that said about his powers. I did not ask Arawn. Instead, I asked, "Whose realm is the North Wood?"

"Is that what Jareth told you it was called?" Arawn made a sniff of disapproval. "The Goblin King is out of his depth. He has no business in these matters, and he lacks much of the knowledge to meddle in them. It is merely the Wood, Sarah. 'The North Wood' refers only to how it appears at certain times."

"And who does it belong to?" I reiterated.

"At the moment, technically to you."

I gawked at him.

Arawn nodded. "You stepped into the place as Maiden, and the Wood is attuned to the Maiden. However, the Maiden is often a fleeting position, and in truth, the Wood belongs to no one. It is accorded neutral territory in all disputes, and save for seasonal rites, it is forbidden to shed blood there."

This was all very strange to here. I wondered what he meant by "fleeting." Did it mean that if I lost my virginity, I would no longer be the Maiden? Was that why Jareth had forbidden it? But that made no sense, because Jareth did not want me to stay here. I was hesitant to discuss the subject with Arawn. It felt like too personal a matter. Still . . . "What do you mean by fleeting?"

"If the Maiden does not bind herself to my realm and chooses not to return the following winter, then she ceases to be the Maiden," Arawn clarified. He looked at me thoughtfully. "Did you believe that I meant she might lose her Maiden status through sex?"

I gave a slight nod.

"No." Arawn's voice was definite. "Maiden is meant in the older sense, indicating only that you are unmarried. Many previous Maidens were not virginal, and few were when they left my realm."

He did not say it with any implications, but it still left me with a rather unpleasant feeling. "I will not go to your bed," I told him flatly.

"I did not think that you would, at least, not this winter. Perhaps next year." Arawn leaned out over the edge of the wall.

"I won't be returning either," I snapped.

His only response was, "That has yet to be determined."

I frowned and glared at him. "I thought you wanted to show me something."

"I do." Arawn took my arm, and I was too slow to yank it away from him. He led me along the wall to a place where a stair climbed up the outside of a tower. I tried to decide if it was likely to be the same tower that the mysterious stairs climbed to, but could not make up my mind. "You have been here for half a year, you know, and not a bite of food."

The steps were a little steep, and it took nearly all of my concentration to avoid tripping. Still, my mind reeled to know that it had been so long.

When we reached the top, I was amazed by the sheer distance that was visible, though it was only more of the dull gray and silver landscape. Abruptly, though I hadn't meant to reveal so much, I found myself saying, "Jareth came to see me."

"I know. I felt him slip through the Veil on Samhain, but he could do no harm, so I allowed it." Arawn studied my face. "Do you have feelings for the Goblin King, Sarah?"

"It isn't your business," I told him coldly, turning away from him. I did not know the answer myself.

Arawn gave a slight shrug. "It is not." He pointed at something in the distance. Whatever it was glittered faintly on the horizon. "Can you see that?"

I squinted at the tiny glint of light. "What is it?"

"The sun," he said simply. "The darkest part of winter has passed now, and the Maiden is in Caer Sidydd. Spring is still far off, but for a few moments each day . . . you can see it there, and longer each day."

"I thought it was always dark here," I mused.

Arawn glanced at me. "It was before you came here."

It should have sounded cheesy, but he spoke it like simple fact. This world did not work by the same rules as home. Things that should have been hyperbole were simply the way the world worked. "Thank you for showing me," I said, before turning back to the stairs.

I knew what he was doing. He wanted me to think of bringing light to his realm and decide to stay so that it would be a brighter place. I was not going to let him manipulate me like that.

* * *

The knowledge that my time in Caer Sidydd was more than half over did not alleviate my boredom in the slightest. Each day continued to be a dull span of time, much of it spent, wandering the halls with Gariel. At other times, I took to climbing the walls and looking out to see if I could spot the faint glimmer of light that Arawn had told me was the sun.

Each day it seemed a little brighter and seemed to hang in the sky for longer. I began to grow more confident in the accuracy of my calendar.

The nights got better. Arawn rode with the Wild Hunt less often, and without the horrible sounds it made, I slept more deeply, especially with Gariel at the foot of the bed, as warm as a heating pad on my feet.

I did not grow more hungry, though the food at Arawn's table still looked just appetizing. It remained, however, a price I was not willing to pay.

When the sun had become less a pinprick of light on the horizon and more resembled a particularly bright star than hung in the sky for nearly an hour, there came a morning when Arawn addressed me rather seriously.

He had poured himself a fuller than usual glass of wine, and he had not added any water, as he usually did. "Sarah, tonight will be the last night that the Hunt rides this year."

"Oh." I tried not to sound at all interested, though I did find it mildly interesting. I thought it must mean that winter was nearing its end, and I was very ready to return home.

Arawn drank from his cup and continued, "I tell you because we ride much further on that night than on other nights, and I cannot hold Caer Sidydd as fully in my thoughts. It is a dangerous night here. I would prefer if you rode with us, though I can understand why you might refuse."

"I refuse," I said immediately. The sight of the Hunt had been terrible enough. The thought of riding with them was too much for me. "What exactly will happen at Caer Sidydd?"

"Hopefully nothing," Arawn replied. "But if something should happen, I would not know, and I would not be able to protect you. Do you understand?"

I understood. "I'm not going to ride with you."

"I thought not," he said, "but I had to make the offer. I did not expect you to see sense. You seem to have an aversion to it."

Someone else might have said this in a tone of amusement, but Arawn made it a statement of fact. It was the most bizarre insult I had ever been given in the course of my life.

I did not care. A horrible thought had just occurred to me. Arawn had said that he would not be aware of what happened at Caer Sidydd in his absence. I knew from experience that the Hunt usually rode for several hours. If I investigated the forbidden stairs while he was gone, he would never know.

* * *

When the horrible sounds of the Hunt began that night, I slipped my shoes on and prepared to leave my room. I did not go immediately, wanting to be certain that Arawn was truly gone and that I could begun my explorations in safety, aside from whatever risks he thought there were to Caer Sidydd in his absence.

I probably should have felt guilty to be doing something so forbidden, but somehow all I felt was excited. I had been bored for so long, and the thrill of finally satisfying my curiosity was intoxicating. I had never had wine then, so I did not know what it feels like to be drunk, but I know now. There was a warm haze in my mind.

When I reached the foot of the stairs, I did not hesitate at all, only setting my hand upon the bannister, and beginning to climb them, as they spiraled upward into one of Caer Sidydd's many towers.

It felt like I climbed for hours, but it could not have been long at all. None of the towers were all that high. Perhaps I climbed the equivalent of three stories, perhaps only two. Still, time felt funny, and I remembered what Jareth had said on the subject. One day in the midst of summer vacation feels shorter than a school day in the middle of final exams, but the day itself is actually longer. So maybe I did climb for hours.

As I moved upward, the air seemed to grow warmer, and not with the red heat of fire, that was the only warmth I had known since coming to Caer Sidydd. This was the golden warmth that you feel on some spring mornings, when the chill is finally beginning to die away. It increased too, just like the rising heat of those spring mornings, as it gradually becomes a spring afternoon, and you realize that summer is on the way.

At the top of the stairs was a door. It looked exactly the same as the door to my own bedroom. That was strange, and a little worrisome.

I suspected that it was locked, after all, the stairs had been forbidden to me, so surely the door at the top of them would be locked. Still, I set my hand on the door-knob and tried to turn it.

It turned beneath my hand!

I gasped in astonishment and froze for a moment, before pushing the door open.

The room beyond was somehow filled with sunlight, as impossible as it seemed. The sky outside the enormous glass windows was just as gray as always, but somehow, the room itself was suffused with a golden glow, as well as the smell of roses. It was like a taste of summer in the midst of the endless winter of Caer Sidydd.

The walls were white-washed and gilded, and sky-blue curtains framed the windows. The room was mostly empty, aside from the single thing that stood in the center of the room.

In the center of the room was what appeared to be a bier carved of gold-veined marble. On it lay the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her skin was perfectly fair and creamy, and her hair was a wavy mass of gold that must have fallen all the way to her knees. Her gown was also gold, not merely golden-colored, but actual cloth of gold.

As teenaged girls go, I was not very insecure about my appearance. I was aware that I was cute, and aside from a few concerns about my thighs and the occasional break-out, I was pretty happy with how I looked. But this woman made me feel plain and self-conscious. She was lovely, not merely normal lovely, but inhumanly so.

Her eyes were closed, and her chest did not move, but her cheeks were still pink, so I did not think that she could be dead. Curious, I moved closer to her to touch her skin, not sure if she was flesh or merely a very lifelike statue. She felt warm, though she still did not seem to be breathing. I felt at her wrist for a pulse and was pretty sure that I felt one.

"Who are you?" I mused aloud. I thought of the carving on the door. She must have been one of the previous Maidens.

Knowledge of fairy tales made me think of Sleeping Beauty. I examined the fingers of the hand I held, looking for a spindle-prick. Nothing. Then I took her other hand in mine, and there I found it.

It was not merely the tiny puncture wound of a spindle's point, but a thorn embedded deeply in her finger. This seemed relevant, and I began to pry it out of her flesh. As it slid out, she gave a shuddering gasp, and her eyes opened.

Her eyes were the perfect blue of the summer sky. "Who are you?" she asked. Her voice had a strange accent, that I cannot quite describe.

"I'm Sarah," I said awkwardly. "Who are you?"

"I am Orlaith," she said softly. She looked around her. "Is this Caer Sidydd?"

I nodded.

"Where is Arawn?" Orlaith asked. She seemed a little distressed. "Is he dead?"

"He's with the the Hunt," I explained. "It's, um, the last time this year, so he's very far away."

Orlaith paled. "Then what are you doing here? Why didn't you ride with him?"

I shuddered. "No, not with the Hunt."

"You are a fool," she stated coolly. "And we are in very great danger. We must hurry." She was already hastening towards the stairs.

I chased after her. "Where?" If it was so dangerous, I wondered why Arawn had not insisted more than he had.

"The Great Hall," she said firmly. "It's the most defensible." She said it almost with the tone of a military commander. For all that she looked like nothing so much as a damsel in distress, Orlaith was clearly quite capable. "You must be the current Maiden."

We seemed to be descending the stairs far more rapidly than I had been able to climb them. I don't just mean that it took less time. I mean the staircase seemed shorter. "Yes. Only Arawn said there hadn't been one in a very long time."

Orlaith did not so much as spare me a glance. "I expect I was the last one. Things were . . . well, we both made mistakes, I think. I wonder what will happen now that there are two of us."

So did I. I wondered about a great many other things as well. "What exactly is it?" I inquired. "What's so dangerous?"

Orlaith frowned, as she walked. "Did Arawn not explain to you? No, of course, he didn't. You're human. He wouldn't want to frighten you, when there was a chance he could convince you to stay. Have you ever been alone in the woods at night?"

"Yes." I'd gotten lost once going to the bathroom on a camping trip. I'd found my way back eventually, but the time in between had been harrowing, even though it was the middle of a well-used camping ground, and there had been no chance of me coming to any real danger.

She turned to look at me. "What was it you were afraid of in the dark?"

I wondered how she had known that I had been afraid that night, but did not ask. "I'm not sure. Something. It was just dark, and it didn't really feel like I was alone. It could have been anything."

Orlaith nodded. "Arawn's realm is night, and death, and winter, but his power is constructive. Life comes from death. Winter is needed for spring to return, and there can be no dawn without the night. Without these things, the world would become unbearable. We need a rest from the heat of summer, from the sunlight, and even from life itself."

I nodded. I thought that I could understand what she meant. "And the things that you fear in the dark?"

"That's the other side of it: dark, cold, and death that do not bring about new life." She ran her thumb against the finger where the thorn had been stuck. "Those, not summer, are Arawn's foes." Orlaith's voice was serious.

I thought about the thorn and realized that I had to know. "Why were you asleep?"

Orlaith glanced at me quickly and then looked away. "It's complicated, Sarah."

I did not care if it was complicated. That was the excuse my parents had given me for the divorce, and no more had ever been explained. Complicated did not mean that it could not be explained, only that the explanation would be difficult. "I woke you up. Don't I deserve to know?"

At this point, we stepped into the Great Hall. The massive fire that normally burned in the hearth was gone, and the air felt even chillier than usual. For once, the table was empty, barren of the food that Arawn still hoped to tempt me with. Orlaith frowned. "This won't do. Help me make a fire, and I'll tell you the story."

I wasn't very clear on what went into building a fire, except that wood was involved, and there was none in the great hearth. "We need wood," I observed.

"Yes, break up some of the chairs," Orlaith instructed. "There should be oil in some of the wall sconces, we'll use that too."

I set to work smashing some of the chairs against the table and throwing the resulting boards, legs, and assorted splinters into the fireplace. "Do you have any matches?" I asked.

"Matches?" Orlaith asked in a puzzled tone. "I don't think that word makes sense in context."

It must have been a very long time that she had been asleep, I thought. "They're little sticks of wood," I explained. "You rub the end against something hard, and it catches on fire."

"Oh!" Orlaith seemed to understand. "You mean lucifers. No, I have none. Nor flint and steel, but it should not matter. I have enough magic to strike a spark, at least if the wood is dry and there is oil to feed it."

As I broke up the chairs, Orlaith began to talk. "Arawn had intended for me to be the last Maiden. We were in love, and I thought I could do this forever. I liked Caer Sidydd, which none of the other Maidens had, even if they eventually fell in love with him. He's easy to fall in love with."

I did not know what she meant. He seemed very distant and off-putting to me.

"And that was the problem really." She sighed. "I did not want to go back, and so I decided to stay. I did not realize until later that . . . well, if I stayed here, spring did not come. They sent a knight from the Summerlands to claim me, and he fought Arawn and won, slaying him in a battle on the summer solstice."

Clearly this was the story of how the battles between the Oak and Holly Kings had begun.

Orlaith poured the oil she had collected over the firewood. "And when it became clear that the champion of summer thought that he had certain rights to my body," her voice sounded tight and choked, "I grasped a poisoned rose, thinking that death-sleep would be a better fate." She looked around the room. "I suppose Arawn must have found me when he returned to life and brought me home."

I watched her as she knelt in front of the great hearth and held her hands out over the oil-drenched wood. Orlaith closed her eyes in concentration, and then the room suddenly grew warmer, as a bright spark flew from her hands igniting the oil. Within moments, the fire was blazing merrily. "That's impressive," I said. "Could I learn to do that?"

Orlaith turned to look at me. "I do not know. I have never tried to teach magic to a human before, but you do not appear to be strictly mortal, so perhaps it would be possible. Still, this is neither the time nor the place."

I sat down on one of the unbroken chairs. "Why not? It seems safe enough."

"Fool!" Orlaith exclaimed in disgust.

She had scarcely ceased speaking, when I noticed that the curtains near the windows were floating in an utterly unnatural way. In spite of the fire, the shadows in the room suddenly seemed darker and more threatening.

My heart began to beat fast, as a panic descended on me for no tangible reason. "Is that what you were talking about?" I asked Orlaith.

"You all but invited it in," she growled, reaching for the poker that stood nearby. She hefted it easily and held it as if she were accustomed to holding a weapon. "Never speak of safety so. Fate will work to punish you."

I had never really believed in fate, but Orlaith spoke of it as if were something to be taken for granted. And she had been right. Trouble had appeared almost as soon as I finished speaking. I looked around to see if there were anything that I too could use as a weapon, but all I found was the splintered remains of one of the chairs.

"Make a torch," Orlaith instructed me. "Fire is mankind's oldest friend. It will serve you here."

Her words were strange, but it still seemed like good advice. I grabbed one of the chair legs that had not made it into the fire and wrapped one end with fabric I tore from the bottom of my skirt. I damped it with some of the same oil Orlaith had used and then plunged the tip into the fire. The resulting torch was a little smoky, but it would have to do.

Orlaith and I backed up to the fire. It was uncomfortably hot on my back, but it also felt safe, or at least safer. The shadow seemed to moving further into the room, though it was hard to be certain that it was not my imagination. "I'm sorry," I told her quietly.

"Apologies are meaningless," Orlaith said, but then she added, "but I bear you no ill will." She looked over at me encouragingly. "It is entirely possible that we can hold them off until Arawn's return. How long ago did he leave?"

I wasn't entirely certain. Time in Caer Sidydd was so strange. "Not more than an hour."

Orlaith's frown deepened. "If you have gods, pray to them."

At sixteen, I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about God. I did know one thing for certain. "I wish Jareth was here."


	6. After Darkness

When I turn to the east, I see no dawn,

But after darkness comes the light

And when I turn to the west, the silent night hides all

Where is the light that shines so bright

-Hammerfall, "Always Will Be"

* * *

The room was silent. The shadows continued to grow.

My heart fell. I had been certain that Jareth would come. I had wished. In the past, the words "I wish" had brought me nothing but trouble, because of his immediate response. But now, when I wanted him, he was no where to be seen. I had felt certain that he would come and save us.

He did not. Maybe we were far enough away that it would take him more than a few minutes to get to me. I held my breath, hoping that he would come. I ran out of air, but there was still no sign of him. A part of me felt angry with him for not being there when I needed him. Another, larger part was only terrified of the situation Orlaith and I were in.

I clung to the hope that it was only that he had not reached us yet. He might be on his way right then. Yet there was no sign of it. I did not entirely give up, but I was beginning to doubt. A small bitter voice inside of me murmured that it would be just like Jareth not to be there on the one occasion that I actually needed him.

I thrust the torch forward in the direction of the shadow. It recoiled slightly. "Is there any way we can call Arawn back?" Maybe Arawn could rescue us, even if Jareth somehow could not or would not.

Orlaith shook her head. "If it's Candlemas night, he's too far away to be reached. He'll be back sometime before dawn. That will probably be too late for us."

I stared at the shadow worriedly. It seemed darker as well as larger. It sounded like no help was coming. We were on our own. "Alright, is there anything we can do to stop it?"

There was no response. Orlaith only steadied her hands on the poker. Her face was determined, but I could see the fear beneath it

Another question occurred to me. "What will it do to us?"

Orlaith's mouth tightened. "I cannot be certain. Death with no hope of return, perhaps, or corruption of the spirit. It is not a fate that has befallen many."

It did not sound good, I thought with despair. No hope of rescue and what sounded like a fate worse than death. No chance to figure out how I really felt about Jareth or to find out how Orlaith had come to be lying in Arawn's tower. It made me wish that I had eaten some of the food Arawn had offered, so that at least I would not die hungry. And for all this to happen now, when my time in Caer Sidydd was nearly over. To have come so close to going home, and now this. It was utterly unfair, I thought.

The thing that finally broke through my despair was irritation with myself. I was not going to be the whining little girl who gives up when things get hard. I was not a damsel in distress. There was no such thing as impossible; only very difficult. It was merely a matter of finding the right way to do something. Maybe Orlaith couldn't think of anything, but I was going to. Somehow.

It didn't like the fire. I doubted it would like light. But aside from the fire, the only light was the distant star of sunlight that you could just barely see from the topmost tower. Arawn had said it was the sun, and it was there because the Maiden was in Caer Sidydd. Would it be brighter with two Maidens? Maybe, but surely not bright enough. Unless there were something we could do to summon it closer.

"How much magic do you know?" I asked Orlaith.

She did not turn her gaze from the shadows. "A few small spells. I am no sorceress."

That was not promising. "Can you make a light?" I asked.

"A small one, not enough to be much help." Orlaith demonstrated by removing one hand from the poker and snapping her fingers. A tiny light appeared in the air near her head. It was approximately the size of a pea. Her forehead was furrowed and her lips pursed, as if even this small spell required the utmost concentration.

Still, the shadow's approach did seem to slow. "Can you make more than one?"

I already knew her answer before she spoke it. "No."

"Then you probably don't know any magic that would make the sun come back faster?" I only bothered asking out of frustration, and my tone was full of my irritation at our near-impossible situation. Near-impossible though, because I still had not given up.

Orlaith stilled, as if something had occurred to her. "Perhaps there is something," she mused in a dazed tone. "I am not very skilled with spells, but there are greater magics than that, and I might be able to invoke some of them. Something that doesn't so much require skill as leverage."

This was the most optimistic thing I had heard yet, so I turned my full attention to her. "How?" I demanded. "What do we need to do?"

She took my hand. "Outside in the courtyard, I think. Greater magics tend to work better under the sky."

I did not bother protesting that we were undergound and that there shouldn't even be a sky. I understood now that it simply did not work that way. The rules by which I understood the world to work, simply did not apply. Instead, I ran with her, past the encroaching shadow out into the hallway that led to the courtyard. The shadows were there too, indeed there seemed to be even more of them. It was a harrowing journey. Many times we strayed so close to one of the shadows that a chill ran through my body and gooseflesh rose on my arms, but soon we stood in the courtyard under the dull gray sky, our hands still clasped. Orlaith's hand seemed to be the only warmth in the world.

"Well?" I asked.

Orlaith frowned. "Bringing the sun is part of what we, as the Maidens, are supposed to be able to do," she mused. "Us being here on one of the days of power, like Candlemas, should be enough, but it usually takes more time. We will have to replace time with power, I think."

I met her eyes. They seemed ever bluer than they had before. It was like staring into the depths of a sapphire. "How do we get more power?" I asked. I felt uneasy for some reason, and I had to wonder if the costs of this kind of magic would be steeper than I cared to pay.

"Do you have a blade?" Orlaith inquired in return.

I shook my head, glad that the answer was no. I was not certain what she would do with one, but I could not think that it would be good.

She let out a sound like a huff. "Then we likely only have one option." Abruptly, Orlaith's lips were on mine in a kiss, passionate and demanding and scorching as the summer sun. I did not know how her lips could be so hot, and yet somehow they were, like drinking too hot cocoa on a snowy December morning.

I froze. This was not what I had expected. It was bad enough when Jarrith had kissed me so oddly before Arawn had taken me away, but now this strange inhuman woman was doing so as well. I had heard of women who preferred other women to men, but I had never through of it much. I knew that I found men attractive, and it had never occurred to me that I might find women so too. I still wasn't sure that I did.

All I was sure of was that neither kiss was what I had fantasized of or longed for, even on the occasions that Jareth had appeared in my fantasies. I could not help but wonder if anyone would ever kiss me gently or out of love. I tried to pull away, but Orlaith's hands tightened on my shoulders.

"There is power in blood and sex," she whispered into my mouth. "Without a blade to open a vein, this is what we have." Then she thrust her tongue into my mouth forcefully, but smoothly.

I understood her words. Arawn had said something similar once, that great magic always involved blood or sex. Calling the sun, I realized would have to be a very great magic. I wondered how far things would have to go. Would we have to make love there in the courtyard? I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Sex had to be better than dying or whatever it was that the shadow would do to us. I wasn't sure if sleeping with Orlaith was also forbidden by Jareth's instruction or if I even cared anymore. And even more than I was uncomfortable with the sort of kisses she and Jareth had given me, I was even more horrified by the thought that this might be how I lost my virginity.

Blood and sex. That was quite a price to pay for the return of the sun. On the other hand, it seemed to be the only price that would do, and I very much wanted to live.

Orlaith wrapped her arm around my waist.

My body went stiff. This wasn't what I wanted, on the other hand . . . we needed the sun. And somehow, I suspected, it wouldn't work if I didn't mean it.

Sex had to be better than death. I would just have to try and see how far it went, accepting that this was the sacrifice I would have to make. I prayed that it would go no farther than the kiss, but if it did, I had every intention of surviving. No matter the cost. And if I wanted to live, then I needed to set my mind to it.

I started by closing my eyes. I had always heard that you were supposed to close your eyes when kissing, but I had not had time to do so when Jareth had kissed me; it had begun and ended before I had even fully known what was happening.

Orlaith's arms were warm around me even in the icy chill of the courtyard, though that was still nothing compared to the heat of her lips. The smell of summer and roses still hung around her. Her lips were very soft, like the petals of some sort of flower. There could be no imagining that I was kissing Jareth or any other man. Orlaith was intensely female. To my surprise, I found that I did not mind that, at least not as much as I minded the strange circumstances of this kiss.

Slowly I began to move my own lips against hers and open my mouth wider to accommodate her tongue. It was a little nice, I told myself, as I relaxed into it, forcing myself to ignore the fear and tension within me. It reminded me of lying in the grass on a summer day or swimming in a sun-warmed lake, just sensations of warmth and softness and light.

Light!

I opened my eyes in amazement to find the courtyard blazing with brilliant sunlight. The sky overhead was no longer gray, but the brightening blue of early spring. Looking around, I saw ice melting everywhere and even hints of green appearing in the dead gardens of the courtyard. As I watched, I could see the buds appearing on the branches.

"Orlaith!" I exclaimed, breaking the kiss. "Look!"

She too opened her eyes and stared around her.

The shadows were shrinking to nothing in the light, nightmares slain by the light of day. Within moments they were gone, and the tight ball of fear in my heart was gone too. We would live. We would live, and there would be no need to pay a harsher price. I was relieved beyond words.

"We did it," Orlaith whispered in amazement, and I realized for the first time that she had not been certain that it was possible. It was as much a miracle to her as it was to me. "We did it, Sarah. We brought the sun!" She sounded younger and more human then, and I wondered if she had always been as strange and fey as she was now.

Caer Sidydd was almost unrecognizable. I stared at Orlaith, as amazed as she, and then my face broke into a smile. Abruptly I laughed, not out of humor, but out of simple joy at the miracle we had created. "Won't Arawn be surprised?"

"I certainly am," Arawn's voice observed.

I turned around rapidly to try to spot him. He and the rest of the Hunt had alighted on the walls. In the light of day, they seemed far less frightening. The horses and men were still tall and wild, but there was no unearthly glow about them, and their faces were no more fierce than Arawn's seemed on any normal day. They were not human, but they were still men. The hounds were only dogs, albeit large and strong ones.

Arawn stared at Orlaith, as she stood in the sunlight, the gold of her gown flowing perfectly around her. She was too inhuman in that moment for me to even feel jealous, only awed by the fact that she kissed me. "Orlaith," he said softly, almost reverently. "I had not hoped . . . magic told me that you lived and your heart still beat, but I did not know how I could make you breathe again. I thought I had lost you forever." He looked at me, and he seemed different in that moment. "How did you bring her back to me?"

"There was a thorn," I said awkwardly. I did not belong here, I felt like I had walked onto stage in the middle of someone else's scene, and I could not simply exit until I had spoken some combination of lines to reassure the audience that I was supposed to be there.

He glanced around at the sunlight that had suffused Caer Sidydd. "And all of this?" He gestured, including all of the strange miracle that we had brought about.

"It was nothing!" Orlaith answered, looking down at her hands. "The . . . the shadows were here, Arawn, and we were trying to stop them, and with two of us, this . . ." She was even blushing. "just happened."

She seemed utterly different around him. Gone was the commanding woman who had stood beside me with a poker. This Orlaith was all coy smiles and longing gazes. I think I liked the other side of her better, and I thought it was tragic that she felt the need to show this face to Arawn. I didn't think he could possibly prefer it. While I did not like him, he did not strike me as being that shallow. Did she think she had to behave like this for him, or was it only that he made her feel this way?

If it was the latter, then I wanted to know how it felt to be so in love with someone that you turned into someone else entirely.

"So," I asked uncertainly, "what happens now?" I did not know if the situation at Caer Sidydd would change now that Orlaith had returned. If nothing else, I thought perhaps she might want her bedroom back.

Arawn looked at me in surprise, as if this question had not yet occurred to him. He was silent for a moment, before he finally spoke. "I can send you home," he said at last. "Orlaith is here. There is a Maiden in Caer Sidydd."

My heart leaped. I had missed my family very much. And while Caer Sidydd was lovely in the sunlight, it was not the place I wanted to be. "When can I leave?"

"Now."

* * *

It was like be struck in the face with a snowball, only it was a snowball larger than I was. There was a sharp, painful, moment of cold, and then I was standing in my own front yard, completely disoriented. My first thought was that I was a little sad not to be able to see goodbye to Gariel, Orlaith, or even Arawn.

I stared at my house for a moment, scarcely able to believe that I was there. I had last seen it on an early morning in mid-June, and now, judging by the weather, it had to be late afternoon some time in February. The yard bore a thin layer of snow, or perhaps it was only very thick frost. My breath made clouds in the air. At least I was dressed for it, in clothing that had kept me warm in the chill of Caer Sidydd. Besides, I still did not feel the cold as harshly as I once had. I drew in a slow breath of the icy air, then ran to the door, eager to burst in and reassure my family.

Still, I hesitated. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly. I hadn't been here in over six months, but while that time had been in a strange, near-timeless place for me, everything had been real for my family. Now that I thought of it, six months at Toby's age was an eternity. He probably didn't even remember me. He was almost two now. I could not even imagine how much he must have grown. I felt a deep sense of loss at the firsts I must have missed.

Strange thoughts from the girl who had once wished him away to the Goblin King.

In contrast, for me it was strange to stand outside in fresh air, under normal sunlight, however chill the air. There were cars going by and people and sound. Real people that I could see, who made sounds that I could hear.

I was surrounded by life again.

It was bound to be an incredible adjustment.

I set my hand on the door-knob and turned it, wondering if it was locked. It usually wasn't. On the other hand, I had vanished. I was sure that everyone had been very upset by my absence. I wondered whether they believed I had run away or been kidnapped. It must have been awful for them. Either way, they might have started locking the door.

But the door was not locked. The knob turned easily, and I stepped inside. After a very long time, I was home.

As soon as I opened the door, Merlin's forefeet collided with my chest. I took a half step backward under this force, then wrapped my arms around him. He smelled like a dog, and for the first time I noticed that Gariel had not. Gariel had a strange musky smell, that reminded me of the dark, turned earth in the woods. In contrast, the smell of Merlin was a perfectly mundane dog smell, and I had not realized how much I missed it and him until the moment that my arms were locked around his neck and my face buried in his shaggy fur.

"Don't let him jump up on you!" a familiar voice called from the kitchen. "You know it's a bad habit."

I grimaced at the tone of my stepmother's voice. She sounded in an absolutely awful mood. We had gotten along better since I had returned from the Labyrinth, but it was still hard to like her. I could never be entirely sure how much of my dislike was because of her, and how much was that I still resented the fact that she wasn't Mom. Still, I knew that she had probably been worried about me too, so I called out. "I'm home!" I hugged Merlin once more before pushing his paws away from my chest.

"That's nice. Close the door behind you before the cold gets in." She did not seem very excited to hear my voice, and I stood there stunned. "I said to close the door, Sarah!"

I closed the door. She definitely knew it was me. But somehow, she did not seem surprised by my presence. Had they somehow not realized that I was gone? The seasons had clearly changed, so it could not be one of those Narnia scenarios where time passed differently for me than it did for them. Or could it? The weather had been strange. Maybe the chill outside was related to that, and I had only been gone for a few hours. It was the only answer I could think of.

She continued. "Get your homework done before you do anything else! If your grades aren't up, then you can't audition for the school play!"

I froze. No, it was not still summer if I had homework. Something very strange was going on.

"Sarah, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, ma'am," I called back. My hands were shaking. What was going on? Had they somehow failed to notice when I was gone for more than six months? Was I that unimportant in their lives that when I returned the only response was to do my homework?

On the other hand, she spoke as if my grades had been suffering and as if she knew that there was a school play coming up. Had my life gone on without me, and I simply had no memory of it? None of this made any sense.

Still, the middle of the living room was not the place to ponder it, so I began to climb the steps, my mind whirling at the many confusing possibilities that might explain the situation I found myself in.

I wanted to look for Toby to see how much he had grown, but common sense told me that I should change first and take a few minutes to reacclimate. Besides there was the homework that had been mentioned, and I might need to see if I could figure out what it was. I would probably be falling back into the middle of the school year, ad I had no idea how I would ever manage to keep up.

So instead I made my way to my own bedroom. It was good to look at my own door, instead of the strangely carved one at Caer Sidydd. Now that I stood there again, it seemed that not time at all had passed. I gave a soft sigh of contentment and opened the door.

"You could knock," a sour voice observed sarcastically, as a girl sitting at my desk turned to face me.

I stared in amazement. I was looking at my own face.


End file.
